


Daughter of Wisdom

by shiiki



Series: Daughter of Wisdom [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-17 10:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 83,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9319448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiiki/pseuds/shiiki
Summary: What Annabeth Chase wants most is to undertake a quest, and when that chance comes, she’s taking it—even if that means teaming up with the son of her mother’s biggest rival. She thinks she’s prepared for everything that could happen, but right from the start, nothing goes to plan. And everything she thinks she knows about the quest, her life, and her family, may just be turned on its head. An alternate PoV retelling ofThe Lightning Thief. *COMPLETE*





	1. The God Of Sleep Gives A Concert

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it’s _Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief_ , as told by Annabeth Chase. I will stick to the canon events, but hopefully I’ll be able to put a different spin on them from Annabeth’s perspective. The chapters loosely follow the ones in the book, but will be cut in different places. This story was originally posted on my [LiveJournal](http://shiikifics.livejournal.com/167535.html) and at [Fanfiction.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12169338/1/Daughter-of-Wisdom).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth and five other campers get a tour of Mount Olympus.

I stared up at the towering building in front of me. The last thing I wanted was to gape like a country girl who’d barely seen the city in five years, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Here was one of the triumphs of architecture, rising high about the other buildings (and in a city of skyscrapers like New York, that was saying something) with a delicate needle spire piercing the clouds.  
  
Even if I didn’t know that the Empire State Building was the gateway to the home of the gods, it would still be an impressive sight in itself. And I was about to enter it and take an elevator all the way to Mount Olympus.  
  
I wondered if I’d finally get the chance to meet my mother.  
  
Okay, you’re probably confused at this point: _what do you mean, meet your mother?_ Well, you see, my mom is a Greek goddess.  
  
I should probably introduce myself. My name is Annabeth Chase, and I’m a twelve-year-old demigod. Like most half-bloods (half-human, half-god), I’ve never met my godly parent, let alone visited their holy domain. My mother deposited me on my father’s doorstep in a golden cradle as a baby, which kind of turned his world upside down.  
  
The less said about that, the better. I didn’t live with my dad any more. For the last five years, I’d been a resident at Camp Half-Blood, the only safe place for young demigods. Outside of camp, without proper training, it’s hard for us to defend ourselves against the ancient Greek monsters that are attracted to us like bees to honey. Most campers just spent summers there, but I was one of the handful that stayed all year round. I didn’t exactly have a home I wanted to return to, and living on my own in the outside world … well, I’d already tried that and it hadn’t ended to well.  
  
The less said about that, the better, too.  
  
As a year-rounder at Camp Half-Blood, I usually got to do one or two field trips during term time, but a chance to actually visit Mount Olympus, home of the gods themselves, was incredibly rare. They only gave permission every other decade or so. I could still barely believe I’d been picked as one of the lucky six to go on this trip. Since our activity director, Chiron, had announced it, I’d spent all my time reading up. I was especially interested to see which of the ancient monuments might have migrated west, and whether they’d look anything like the originals.  
  
'Jeez, Annabeth.' Clarisse, my fellow camper, pinched my arm. 'Are you just gonna stand out here staring at it?' She sounded edgy, like she was preparing for an attack. She generally did—as a daughter of the war god Ares, Clarisse was always spoiling for a fight. I couldn’t blame her in this instance, though. Six half-bloods in the middle of New York City were bound to attract monster attention sooner or later.  
  
'Come on, guys,' Luke said. He was the oldest member of our group, and officially our chaperone, though he acted pretty cool about stuff like that. Luke treated everyone like they were on the same level. He was probably the kindest person I knew. I don’t generally put a lot of faith in people, but Luke was one of the few friends I had that I actually felt I could trust. (That list wasn’t long.)  
  
I blushed as Luke put an arm around me to steer me after the rest of the group, through the door. My heart, already bursting with anticipated excitement, did a flip-flop. I told myself it probably didn’t mean anything. I’d known Luke for five years—practically forever for a half-blood—and I used to think of him as an awesome big brother. But since he got back from a quest two years ago, things had changed. He’d come back more rugged, more grown-up, like he’d crossed the line into a different world. He’d become head counsellor for his camp cabin and although he didn’t exactly treat me like I was a little kid, we didn’t really hang out any more. I missed the old Luke, but there was something alluring about this new, handsome version, too. I’d started to wish … well, I didn’t know what exactly, but sometimes I got butterflies on the inside when I was around him.  
  
The guard at the front desk of the Empire State Building looked bored. He was lounging in his chair with his feet on the desk. I was vaguely sure this wasn’t entirely in keeping with his job description, but perhaps the Mist, which obscures magic from regular mortals, kept it unnoticeable. Certainly none of the other tourists milling around seemed to notice.  
  
'How are we getting there?' Connor Stoll asked. He obviously hadn’t done _his_ background reading. To be fair, most of us didn’t read very often. It isn’t an easy task for half-bloods, nor one that really holds our attention well. Even I only struggled through it when I decided that the knowledge I could get outweighed the effort it took.  
  
'The elevator,' Luke said. He addressed the bored-looking guard. 'Are they ready for us, Mike?'  
  
'You’ll be Chiron’s group, then? Yeah, go on up. Six hundredth floor.' He handed a key card to Luke. 'Put that in the security slot. Make sure you’re alone.'  
  
'Six hundredth …' Charles Beckendorf gulped. He was one of the god Hephaestus’s kids, muscular and sturdily built, but he looked a little green at the idea of being that high. Then again, there were phobias that got passed down godly lines. It wasn’t like I was without them myself. Hephaestus had been flung from a mountain as a baby. An inherited fear of heights seemed pretty reasonable given those circumstances.  
  
No one else seemed to notice Beckendorf’s hesitance. Luke bundled us all into an empty elevator. Once the doors shut behind us, he stuck the key card in a slot at the bottom of the console. A glowing red button appeared at the top, above the other floor buttons, flashing the number '600' at us. Luke pressed it, and the elevator started to rise, accompanied by warbling strains of Frank Sinatra. I wondered if was the actual elevator music for all tourists, or special for Olympus visitors.  
  
Up we went … and up … and up … It took a while. At the back of the elevator, Clarisse hummed impatiently and tapped her foot.  
  
'Excited, Annabeth?' Luke said.  
  
'Um,' I said, suddenly tongue-tied. 'Yeah, I mean, yeah, it’s nice.' Gods, my mother was the goddess of wisdom, and here I was, sounding like a brainless bimbo. I cleared my throat and tried again. 'It’ll be so interesting, won’t it? To see—um, to watch the god’s council? That’s not something you see everyday.'  
  
A shadow crossed Luke’s face briefly. 'No, it isn’t,' he agreed. 'I thought you’d be more interested in the buildings, though,' he continued. 'Aren’t you into all that stuff?'  
  
_He’s noticed_ , I thought. My face broke into a giddy smile. 'Oh, I am!' I said. 'I bet it’s more glorious in real life than the pictures in the books—'  
  
The lift shuddered to a stop, cutting me off. The doors opened with a soft _ding_ , and my jaw dropped.  
  
Mount Olympus lay before us, a mountain peak in all its heavenly glory. The sprawling ancient city hovered above Manhattan as though floating on clouds, giving it a fragile, ethereal feel. A narrow stone path led from the elevator, reaching across a gap below which the city of New York lay like a Polly Pocket village. Beckendorf swallowed hard and grabbed my arm tightly. I winced, but patted his hand reassuringly.  
  
The path wound up the mountainside through the little villages of minor gods and goddesses and other immortals like nature spirits, all going about their regular business. Some stopped to gawk at us, others hailed us, hawking their wares.  
  
'Concert tickets, special Friday rates!' a wood nymph shouted. 'Euterpe’s first solo tour—you can’t miss it!'  
  
'Hand of glory, going cheap!' a man offered, with a dazzling grin. 'Best friend to thieves and plunderers … special offer, only five drachmas!'  
  
Travis Stoll stopped, looking longingly at the hand, but Luke pushed him along.  
  
'We’ve got a schedule to keep, bro.' He kept us moving up toward the top of the mountain, where the great palace of Olympia stood. Around it, I could see the various temples and dwellings of the Olympians springing off the mountainside. Each one had its own mount, cushioned by fluffy clouds. Every structure was unique in its intricate design. A temple of pillars and straight lines representing strength perched next to a watery-looking pagoda that was almost alive in its fluidity. Columns of pristine, sculptured eagles so life-like I thought they might take flight faced sensuous statues of barefooted maidens whose marble bodies beckoned to us mischievously.  
  
It was all breathtakingly gorgeous. But it was also a bit … haphazard. _If I planned it,_ I thought, _I’d make it fit together better. I’d design everything as a whole, not just the individual structures._  
  
I blinked, a little stunned at my own audacity in critiquing Olympus itself. The stubborn little voice in my head refused to back down, though. _It’s true. It’s amazing, but it could still be better._  
  
We hiked up to the palace, which was guarded by a massive bronze archway. Through it, the palace itself was forged in white and silver. _I’d change the colour scheme,_ I thought. I liked the open-air concept, though. It was like the mess hall at Camp Half-Blood, natural and airy. Something like that would never be practical in the real world, but who worried about being rained on when you could control the weather?  
  
The throne room, where the gods held their council, was through the courtyard. It had an actual ceiling, but I assumed it was more for decoration than necessity. Golden constellations winked at me from the dome: Andromeda, the Pleiades, Orion with his blinding belt. Below, amidst the gigantic columns that held up the ceiling, thirteen massive thrones were arranged in an omega-shape around a glowing central hearth, rather like the way the cabins were laid out at Camp Half-Blood. Except … _thirteen_?  
  
I felt a moment’s confusion, then I realised the last throne was a bit smaller, less ornately-designed than the other twelve, and it was out of alignment from the others. At the feet of its occupant lay a metal helmet, which seemed to radiate intimidation. Of course. They would have to have a temporary seat for the Lord of the Underworld’s winter solstice visits.  
  
'What is the meaning of this interruption?' a booming voice said. Even if it hadn’t come from the platinum throne right at the end, in the same spot that cabin one occupied in the camp arrangements, it was impossible to not recognise the rolling rumble of thunder in that voice. The fire in the hearth crackled and rose to the height of a small waterfall. It burned so brightly that it obscured the faces of all the gods surrounding it. All six of us dropped quickly to our knees.  
  
'We thank you for your generosity in allowing this visit, Lord Zeus,' Luke said hastily. I marvelled at his bravery in addressing the King of the Gods directly.  
  
'When did I do that?' Zeus said.  
  
'Last month,' came a familiar, bored-sounding voice. On the nearest throne to our right, our camp director, Mr D, turned his face to us. I still couldn’t see him clearly, but I thought he might look a bit different here. Normally, he was a pudgy, pot-bellied man with squinty eyes and a permanent scowl. Here, he appeared to be more aristocratic-looking. 'I wouldn’t have bothered, but Chiron was being annoyingly persistent. I suppose it is that time again.'  
  
'We do encourage our children to seek out learning experiences,' a goddess to the right of Zeus said. My breath caught sharply in my throat as she rose and came to stand before us. She got incongruently smaller as she approached, probably because she was twenty feet tall to begin with and had to shrink to reach our level. She was still tall and regal-looking, with pale hair and sharp, calculating eyes exactly like my own.  
  
I couldn’t help myself. 'Mother,' I gasped.  
  
'Ah,' the goddess Athena said. 'Here is one of mine. How fares your father, Annabeth.'  
  
Of all the questions she had to ask! It had been two years since I had actually seen my dad.  
  
'I—um, I don’t know.' I blanched. Was that really the best answer I could give to the goddess of wisdom? 'He’s, er, still lecturing at West Point,' I offered lamely. I knew at least that much from his last letter.  
  
Athena looked at me sternly, with eyes that seemed to pierce straight into my brain. I felt like she knew everything about me from that one look: how I hadn’t replied any of my dad’s letters, the anger I would always have at him for choosing his new family.  
  
But she didn’t address any of it. 'I hope your birthday present has served you well,' she said finally.  
  
I couldn’t help smiling as Athena’s words washed over me. I reached into my pocket, where I’d stowed the magical Yankee’s cap. It had blown to me across the sound last summer, an answer to a prayer I’d offered, but to hear it confirmed straight from my mother’s lips was a whole different experience. Athena _had_ been the sender of my invisibility cap.  
  
'I always keep it close,' I said, bringing it out. Next to me, Luke looked over in surprise.  
  
Athena reached out and I placed the cap in my mother’s hand, wondering if she meant to take it back now. I hoped not. I hadn’t even gotten the chance to use it in the real world yet.  
  
Whatever Athena meant to say was forestalled by the arrival of another goddess. This one was, without question, breathtakingly beautiful. However, the expression she wore was that of utmost distaste. I cringed as Hera, the Queen Mother, bore down upon us and eyed me as one would a dirty sock.  
  
'Gifts are meant to come at a price,' she said with a scowl.  
  
'Ordinarily, yes,' Athena acknowledged. 'I would make an exception for a birthday, though.'  
  
'Annabeth Chase,' Hera said dismissively. 'I suppose I should thank you for your hand in the fate of that misbegotten spawn of my husband’s five years ago.'  
  
My insides turned to ice. Five years ago, my friend Thalia, daughter of Zeus, had single-handedly fought off three Furies and an army of hellhounds so that Luke, our satyr protector Grover, and I could get to safety. All that was left of her now was a pine tree guarding Camp Half-Blood. Hera’s reminder cut me like a sharp blade, spilling hot, heavy guilt throughout my stomach.  
  
Beside me, Luke took my hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. It might have set my heart aflutter if I hadn’t felt so wretched.  
  
'And Luke Castellan, of the failed quest,' Hera continued. 'How proud your father must be, to have a coward for a son.'  
  
Luke dropped my hand like a hot coal. A faint pink flush flared in his cheeks, making the thin, white scar on the right side of his face stand out sharply. Luke had been the last camper to receive a quest, two years ago. He alone had returned alive from it, but without completing his mission.  
  
Luke ground his teeth at Hera’s taunt, but he was wise enough not to retaliate. My eyes darted to his hand, which was now clenched into a fist. Did I dare return his comforting gesture?  
  
It was a bit different, though. Luke had been with me for Thalia. It was something we shared. I hadn’t been on his quest, and he’d never spoken of it to me. In fact, he’d been closed off and distant since returning, making it clear that he _didn’t_ want to share it with me.  
  
Before I could properly decide whether or not to take Luke’s hand, Hera moved on.  
  
'More sons of Hermes,' she said scathingly, looking over Travis and Connor Stoll. 'What a family reunion this must be for you.'  
  
She cast a look at Hermes himself, who glanced up from the Blackberry in his hands.  
  
'Lighten up, Hera,' he said. I thought he might have rolled his eyes.  
  
'Charles Beckendorf, son of Hephaestus.' Hera wrinkled her nose and moved on, choosing not to comment on the fact that this technically made Beckendorf her grandson. I scowled. I was disliking the goddess more and more.  
  
'And Clarisse La Rue, daughter of Ares. Six young heroes, all without a successful quest to their name.' She sighed. 'Not that I have any great love for heroes, but what a ragtag bunch you have here, Dionysus!'  
  
'Yes, well, educational purposes, blah de blah,' Mr D said. He broke the seal of a Coke can with a snap and sipped it.  
  
'I think that’ll do for the introductions,' Zeus said. 'We’ve been interrupted long enough. We still haven’t got to item two on the agenda, and I can see there’s a long list of AOBs at the end. I don’t want to be here all solstice. Send them off, Dionysus.'  
  
Mr D snapped his fingers. 'Ariadne!'  
  
Athena returned my cap. She and Hera made their way back to their thrones as a lovely young goddess with a sweet face approached the throne room. She stepped up to the council circle and kissed Mr D on the cheek, which was somewhat bizarre to watch. Most of the time, I didn’t think about the fact that our grouchy camp director was in fact married.  
  
'I am Ariadne,' Mr D’s wife said—a little unnecessarily, given that he’d just summoned her by name in front of all of us. 'I’ll be leading your tour today. Follow me.'  
  
We got up and followed her away from the twelve Olympians—plus Hades—who returned to their council meeting. I could hear Zeus starting to heckle Poseidon about something that was evidently on agenda item one.  
  
Away form the gods, our tour of Olympus improved greatly. Ariadne proved to be a good tour guide—probably not surprising, since she’d been a guide for Theseus in the ancient Labyrinth, albeit from afar. I listened in fascination when she told us a bit about that. There was no actual Labyrinth replicated on Mount Olympus, but Ariadne knew it so well, she was able to paint a decent word portrait. She had known the inventor, too: the genius Daedalus, whom I admired greatly.  
  
Ariadne showed us the different temples and altars that _had_ migrated with Olympus, explaining the design concepts and history behind each one and relaying some of the more gory histories surrounding them as we went along. Slowly, I felt the sting of Hera’s spiteful comments fade.  
  
She finished with Athena’s Virgin Temple, which captivated me right away. It was held up by neat rows of pillars and close up, I could see that each one was in fact meticulously carved in the image of Athena. Every individual pillar featured a different pose, and the two guarding the entrance depicted her most important aspects. On the right, she was in full battle gear. On the left, she held a scroll and an owl perched on her shoulder. Athena: goddess of war and wisdom.  
  
The golden brazier inside the temple burned with everlasting fire. Ariadne stopped before it.  
  
'It was in front of this very altar that the god of the sea was caught with Athena’s own priestess,' she announced.  
  
Clarisse snickered. 'Going at it like bunnies?'  
  
Ariadne pretended not to hear this. 'In retribution, Athena stripped Medusa of her beauty, turning her hair to snakes, and sentenced her to the fate of monsters. She lived on ever after as a gorgon with a powerful petrifying gaze.'  
  
Connor whistled under his breath. 'Bit harsh. I’d have gone for shoving them in a lake, myself.'  
  
I rolled my eyes. Trust a boy not to understand what an insult it was to desecrate a virgin temple in that way. Some strict punishment was certainly merited, though Poseidon really ought to have taken some of the flack, too.  
  
'Well, that’s it for the tour,' Ariadne said. 'We’ve got a special treat for you now. Private concert—Hypnos has set it all up.'  
  
'Hypnos, the god of _sleep_?' I said sceptically.  
  
'Yes, he’s trying to branch out. Apollo’s been giving him lessons on the lyre. He wanted to open for Euterpe’s solo tour, but she insisted he test his act on an audience first. You’ll do. Come now, concert hall’s this way.'  
  
The concert hall was at the bottom of the hill. It turned out to be one of the more modern buidlings on Olympus, clean and metallic, with a spiky roof that clashed horribly with the rest of Olympus’s ancient Greek design concept. Hypnos was setting up rows of different-sized lyres on an empty stage inside the main amphitheatre.  
  
'Oh good, my audience,' he said. 'Have a seat.' He gestured towards the rows of plush velvet chairs facing the stage.  
  
'Well, enjoy!' Ariadne said.  
  
'Aren’t you staying?' Hypnos said.  
  
'Oh no, I have an appointment at Hebe’s spa, and you wouldn’t _believe_ how hard it is to score one of those. She’s always full! And oh my, look at the time. I must go, she doesn’t hold the appointments if you’re late, the minx!' With a smile and a wave, she dashed away.  
  
' _Spa appointment_?' Clarissed snorted. 'She’d get along with the Aphrodite kids, all right.'  
  
'How’d Mr D manage to score her anyway?' Connor said. 'She’s kinda hot.'  
  
'I wouldn’t say that too loud, dude,' Travis said.  
  
'Pity,' Hypnos said, shaking his head after Ariadne. I wasn’t sure if he meant her marriage or her departure now. 'Well, you guys are here, so let’s get started.'  
  
'Um,' Travis said, 'no offence, but is this going to put us to sl—' He was cut off by a large yawn as Hypnos strung his hand along one of the lyres, playing a soothing chord that resonated around the large room. The amphitheatre might look tacky, but its acoustics were definitely well done.  
  
'I’ve been practising,' Hypnos said. 'Maybe you’ll be my first audience to stay awake through the act. I hope so, anyway. If you do, Euterpe will _have_ to let me open on her tour!' He strung another chord, and I felt an instant wave of sleepiness crash over me.  
  
The music might have been good. I didn’t know; by the third chord, I was unconscious.


	2. We Leave Storms Brewing Over New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth wakes from a series of dreams and catches a cab with her companions back to Half-Blood Hill.

I dreamt of my friend Grover. He was the satyr who had come to fetch us to camp five years ago, on that ill-fated mission when we had lost Thalia, though I didn’t blame Grover for any of that. He’d only been a kid, and he’d done his best to take care of us.  
  
He was out in the world again now, having finally convinced the Council of Cloven Elders to give him a second mission to earn his Searcher’s License. He’d been gone since fall.  
  
In my dream, he hobbled into a classroom on crutches, his goat half disguised with baggy jeans and loose shoes. One of the students, who resembled a redheaded Clarisse, stuck her leg out as he came down the aisle. Grover tripped and his crutches went flying. His shoe came half off, revealing a section of hoof, and he panicked, flailing his arms and landing on his butt. He looked around wildly as he forcefully shoved his shoe back on, but the Mist—the substance that obscured anything mystical from mortal eyes—was functioning. No one seemed to notice.  
  
'Leave him be, Nancy.' A skinny boy with black hair came down the aisle with Grover’s crutches. He held out his hand to help Grover up. 'Or …'  
  
'Or what?' Nancy sneered.  
  
She would probably have said more, but the teacher came in and said, 'Settle down!'  
  
Grover hastened to his seat behind the skinny boy who’d helped him up. He looked up at the teacher and his face froze in an expression of horror. Curious, I looked at her. She was a reed-thin woman in a heavy leather jacket, whose lips were pursed in a thin line. Something about her face felt familiar, but I couldn’t think why. She turned to write large letters on the blackboard: ATMSH. I squinted, willing the letters to make sense. Having a mind hard-wired for reading in ancient Greek makes most of us demigods dyslexic. Deciphering English letters took me a while.  
  
_MATHS_. Right.  
  
'I am Mrs Dodds,' the teacher said. 'I will be substituting for Mrs Kerr this term.' Her eyes roved up and down the rows of students, as though searching for one in particular to call out. She passed over Grover and paused at the boy in front of him before moving on to the next student.  
  
_He is the one!_ hissed a low, gravelly voice. I started and looked around the classroom, but it wasn’t coming from any of the students. None of them seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. A few in the back were throwing wads of spitballs at each other. The girl called Nancy had pulled out a book and was piously writing something in it. The kid in front of Grover put his arms on the table and leaned his head on them.  
  
_He will finish the job,_ said the disembodied voice with satisfaction. It sounded old, almost ancient, as though it held a millennia of secrets within it.  
  
Did Mrs Dodds hear it too? She was starting on her second round scrutinising the students now. Once again, she paused on the boy in front of Grover, considering, and then shook her head in confusion. I shivered. I’d heard that monsters often posed as teachers in schools, trying to snuff out half-bloods before our satyrs could find them. I tried to get a better look at the black-haired boy, wondering if he was one of us, but the dream scene was already fading into mist.  
  
It reformed into a familiar place, though it was one I hadn’t seen for years. A large Dobermann pounced on me, its tail wagging madly. Its wet, slobbery tongue slurped out to lick my cheek. I held a rubber ball in my hand.  
  
'Down, Daisy!' I scolded. My voice sounded young, no older than six. The dog licked me again. 'Sit!'  
  
Daisy paid no attention. She poked her nose at the ball. I moved it behind my back. 'No ball for you unless you sit!'  
  
Daisy whined, but she pulled back and perched on her haunches.  
  
'Good girl!' I praised. Daisy barked happily in return and I tossed her the ball, which she caught with a snap of her powerful jaws. She deposited it back at my feet and trotted away, looking at me expectantly.  
  
'Stay!' I commanded gleefully, picking up the ball. Daisy wagged her tail, enjoying the game. I launched the ball across the room this time. Daisy bounded after it, snatching it out of the air … and knocked into a mantle. A jar of flowers flew off, smashing into a pile of shard glass and petals. Someone cursed loudly and a moment later, my stepmother, Janet, charged into the room with a large book in her hands. She held it like a shield, looking wary.  
  
'What now, Annabeth?' she said, staring at Daisy as though the Dobermann might suddenly grow three heads.  
  
'It—it was an accident! We were just playing.'  
  
Daisy seemed to know she was in trouble. She lay down and put her paws over her nose. Janet squinted at the dog as though trying to make sure she was seeing her right, then she turned her angry eyes on me.  
  
'Don’t we have enough to do keeping the real trouble away? You don’t have to make more on your own!'  
  
'I’m sorry!'  
  
'Go to your room,' Janet snapped. 'I don’t have time for this today.'  
  
I fled, tears filling my eyes. I stumbled through the door to my room, but emerged instead on a rugged cliff. A tall lady was standing near the edge, looking out to sea. It was Athena, her eyes as tempestuous as the gathering storm.  
  
'We will need much wisdom to guide us in the coming days,' she said.  
  
'Mom?'  
  
Athena turned. 'You will have much to do in the months to come, daughter. It is more important now than ever that you train hard.'  
  
'What’s happening?'  
  
'Let your head guide you and not your heart. You are the daughter of wisdom. There is no room for fickle emotion in a quest for truth.'  
  
'I don’t understand.'  
  
Athena made an impatient noise. 'You must wake up now, daughter. It is time to leave, lest you outstay your welcome. The solstice is at an end. Wake.'  
  
Her voice echoed over the cliffs: _wake, wake, wake …_  
  
'Wake up!'  
  
I opened my eyes to find Luke shaking me. I was still in the amphitheatre, which was now completely silent. Hypnos was gone, the stage empty and bare. The other campers were coming to around me, stretching and yawning. Connor Stoll was still asleep, his mouth gaping wide open, but his eyes flew open when Clarisse punched his shoulder.  
  
'Ow!' he yelped, sitting bolt upright.  
  
'We gotta go,' Luke said. 'Stupid concert. You’ve— _we’ve_ been out for a while.'  
  
'Huh.' I rubbed at my eyes. My teeth felt fuzzy, like I’d been asleep all night. I ran my tongue uncomfortably over them.  
  
'The solstice is almost over. The god’s council’s already broken up, and Mr D’s pretty ticked off that we’ve been here the whole time. We gotta go.'  
  
We hurried out of the concert hall. It was dark out, and there were fewer residents of Olympus out in the open. Was it just my imagination, or were the several dryads that _were_ hanging about whispering and pointing at us?  
  
'Should we say goodbye or anything?' Beckendorf asked, glancing at the Palace of Olympia.  
  
Luke shook his head. 'They’ve already scattered. We should just go.' He reached out to press the elevator button, but it arrived first. _Ding_! The door opened and a large, beefy man with greasy dark hair and a sneering expression stepped out.  
  
'Still here, are you?'  
  
'Father!' Clarisse’s eyes widened and she bowed low. The rest of us followed suit. The god of war wasn’t someone you wanted to anger by failing to show proper respect.  
  
Ares scratched his thick head of hair. 'One of my girls, huh?' he said. 'Don’t get too many of those. Slayed anything good yet? Won any great battles?'  
  
'Um,' Clarisse said. It was the first time I’d ever heard her sounding nervous. 'We won capture the flag last week.'  
  
'Bah,' Ares said. 'Camp games. Mere training. You need a real quest, girl. No real bloodshed and destruction unless you’re out in the real world.' He glared round at the rest of them. 'No quest heroes among you?'  
  
We stayed silent, even Luke, as Ares’s fiery eyes bore into us. They seemed to grow slightly misty as they passed over Luke, though I couldn’t imagine why. Maybe actually attempting a quest had gained him a modicum of respect.  
  
'Well, get going. Come back when you’ve actually done something worth bragging about.' He eyed Clarisse meanly before he stalked off. I decided I was really lucky that the goddess of war was nothing like the the god of it.  
  
We stepped into the elevator and began our descent back to earth.  
  
Somewhere between what would probably have been floor two hundred and the actual Empire State Building, Luke tapped my shoulder.  
  
'You dropped this in the concert hall,' he said, holding up my Yankees cap.  
  
'Oh!' I blushed and grabbed it gratefully. It wouldn’t have done for Athena to find it carelessly discarded on Olympus. 'Thanks.'  
  
He shrugged and looked away. I studied him. His face was far away, his expression brooding.  
  
_Let your head guide you and not your heart._  
  
My mom was right. I couldn’t let my stupid crush get in the way of being a good friend.  
  
'Luke, are you okay?' I said quietly.  
  
Luke looked down at me in surprise. 'Yeah.'  
  
'You know Hera’s wrong, right? You’re not a coward.' My cheeks were aflame, but I forced myself to keep going. I should have told him this long ago. 'You’re—you’re the bravest guy I know.'  
  
'You think so?'  
  
'I know so.'  
  
Luke smiled faintly. 'Thanks, Annabeth. She _is_ right, though. I … failed a lot.' His face darkened. 'But I won’t next time.' Something his his voice made me shiver. 'Ares wasn’t kidding, you know. Everything at camp—that’s just training. It’s when you get out there … that’s when you know if you’re good enough.' He shook his head and seemed to discard his moodiness the way one might shrug off a cape. 'But you won’t need to worry about any of that for a while. You’re still so young.'  
  
The elevator let us out on the ground floor and we trooped out past a disgruntled security guard.  
  
'We’re supposed to be _closed_ ,' he complained as he unlocked the main doors to let us out onto Fifth Avenue. The night was chilly and a light snow had started to dust the pavements powder white.  
  
'How will we get back to camp?' Beckendorf said, shivering. 'Are there even trains running this late?'  
  
'I’ve got this,' Luke said. He dug in his pockets and came up with a golden drachma.  
  
'Let’s hurry,' Travis said. His breath came out in little puffs and he rubbed his hands together.  
  
Luke tossed the coin into the air and yelled, ' _Anakoche, harma epitribeios_!'  
  
'You idiot!' Clarisse hissed. 'You’re gonna attract every monster in a two mile radius!'  
  
The drachma disappeared. Where it had fallen, a seven-foot rectangle dissolved into dark sludge. In the dim streetlights, it glowed faintly red. A ghostly cab sprang out of the sludge. I heard its brakes screech, although it hadn’t really been speeding along anything that I could see. A head poked out the passenger window, which I mistook for an actual mop at first, with its grey, stringy hair.  
  
'Passage?' she muttered.  
  
'Five to Camp Half-Blood,' Luke said, depositing another drachma in her palm, and the car elongated like a limousine. Two more doors appeared in the back. 'Grey Sisters Taxi, fastest service anywhere in Greater New York. Hop in, guys.'  
  
Clarisse and the Stoll brothers got in the back door. I squeezed into the middle one with Luke and Beckendorf. Shotgun was already claimed by the lady who’d taken our fare, and the driver was another mop-headed lady … actually, there were _three_ of them squished into the front seats.  
  
'Long Island’s out-of-metro,' one sister screeched. 'I hope you have the fare bonus.'  
  
'Of course,' Luke said.  
  
'Hit the road!' her sister shouted, and the taxi leapt into action. A gods-awful pre-recorded rap started to play: _Yo, I got the best ride in town, fast as the winds blow, no matter where you’re going down, buckling up’s the way to go, yeah! Apollo, out!_  
  
'Better take the advice,' Luke said. 'It’s a pretty wild ride.'  
  
'I hate that thing,' the sister in the passenger seat complained, except it sounded more like, 'I 'ate zat heeng,' because she had Luke’s drachma in her mouth.  
  
'Give me the coin, Wasp, you’re not making any sense,' the middle sister said.  
  
'She’s right, we need to change the safety announcement,' the driver said. 'There’s only so many times you can listen to Apollo before going round the bend.' She swerved hard around an actual bend as she said this, and I was thrown into Luke. Beckendorf smashed up painfully against me.  
  
'Ganymede’s offered to do one,' Wasp said. She must have handed over the drachma because she sounded intelligible again. 'I vote we take him up on it.'  
  
'Ganymede’s a pompous ass,' the middle sister complained. 'Anger, I want the eye!'  
  
'No! Shut up, Tempest, I’m driving!'  
  
'You always use that excuse!'  
  
'Don’t grab!' The cab swerved alarmingly as Tempest lunged at Anger.  
  
'I’m gonna be sick,' Connor moaned in the back seat.  
  
'They’re gonna get us killed,' Clarisse shouted at the same time.  
  
'Relax,' Luke said, 'I’ve done this before. They know what they’re doing. Even if it’s, ah, uncomfortable.'  
  
'When did you—?' I started to ask.  
  
They swerved again, the other way this time.  
  
'Two years ago. They know things, the Grey Sisters—the taxi only services this state, but they know pretty much any location in the world.'  
  
'Go left! No, brake!' Tempest screamed.  
  
'I told you I needed the eye!' Anger yelled.  
  
The myth clicked in my head: Perseus, who had gleaned the location of Medusa’s lair from three ill-tempered hags who had only one eye and one tooth among them.  
  
'Shut up, both of you!' Wasp snarled. 'Just drive, will you?'  
  
The Grey Sisters bickered all the way to camp. Luke handed them another drachma on arrival and the six campers stumbled out of the taxi. Connor was green-faced and gulping, and his brother Travis held his stomach uneasily. Clarisse looked like she wanted to let loose a string of curses.  
  
'Never again,' Beckendorf muttered. I wanted to agree with him, but the logical part of my mind noted that it was always good to keep in mind a method of emergency transportation.  
  
Despite the late hour, their camp director was waiting for them at the top of Half-Blood Hill, next to Thalia’s tree, his centaur body cutting a striking silhouette against the starry sky.  
  
'Chiron!' Luke called.  
  
'Welcome back,' Chiron said. 'I was getting worried. You had all better come quickly.'  
  
'What’s wrong?' I asked.  
  
'Nothing at the moment,' Chiron said, 'but trouble is brewing. Look.'  
  
He pointed across the Long Island Sound. Although the skies over Half-Blood Hill were clear, there was no mistaking the angry black clouds thickening over Manhattan, where they’d just come from.  
  
'Something’s gone awry on Olympus.'


	3. I Attempt Some Detective Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chiron goes off on a mission and Annabeth tries to figure out what the problem is on Olympus.

A week after our field trip, I had one of my prophecy nightmares. I don’t mean a prophetic dream, although those are pretty common, too. This was a series of recurring nightmares centred around a prophecy I’d heard two years ago.  
  
In my dream, I was standing on a precipice, facing a wide expanse of sky. Below me, the earth fell away so far down that I wasn’t sure if it was sea at the bottom or rocky ground. It was all cloaked in mist.  
  
I’d been many places when I was wandering around the country with Luke and Thalia, before we got to camp, but I didn’t recognise this place. I wasn’t sure if it was even somewhere on earth.  
  
'Where’s your hero, little half-blood?' The voice was low and gravelly, coming up from somewhere beneath the mist. It echoed tauntingly against the cliff: _half-blood, half-blood, half-blood_. I was sure it was making fun of me.  
  
'Who are you?'  
  
It laughed, at least I thought it was laughter. It sounded more like nails on a chalkboard.  
  
'It begins,' it said, and whatever 'it' was, the voice was obviously pleased about it. 'It begins, and you will have no power to stop me. Your hero belongs to me, daughter of Athena.'  
  
'I don’t know what you’re talking about. What hero?'  
  
'You know which one. Look.'  
  
The swirling white mist obscuring the bottom of the cliff turned a bright sea-green. A different voice, hoarse and raspy, began to recite:  
  
_’A half-blood of the eldest gods_  
Shall reach sixteen against all odds …’  
  
It was the Great Prophecy, the one I’d heard when I’d snuck in to see the camp Oracle, intent on getting myself a quest. Instead, she’d delivered these lines. Chiron had told me that it had been foretold ages ago, and that the gods had feared it so much, the three eldest brothers had made a pact not to have any more children, in an attempt to thwart the prophecy.  
  
Of course, my friend Thalia had been born since, so obviously Zeus had fallen off the wagon.  
  
I didn’t know the middle two lines of the prophecy, so they never appeared in my dreams, but the last two I could recite by heart as they came up:  
  
_’A final choice shall end his days_  
Olympus to preserve or raze.’  
  
Supposedly this half-blood, whoever he was, was destined to make a choice that would either uphold or destroy the gods … and then he would die. Not exactly a great deal. In some of my worse nightmares, I dreamt that _I_ was the one who had to make the choice and die, though I knew it was impossible. Prophecies were often worded with multiple meanings that would only come clear once the events actually happened, but no matter how you interpreted it, Athena was _not_ one of the eldest gods.  
  
'We have already found him,' the voice from the depths said, with smug satisfaction. 'It has already begun. Sleep well for now, daughter of Athena … or not.'  
  
Something pushed me from behind. I stumbled off the precipice and then I was falling, my arms flailing, screaming at the top of my lungs …  
  
'Annabeth, wake up!'  
  
I came to with a yell. Anita Hawthorne, one of my half-sisters, was shaking me. I shivered. The sheets on my bunk bed felt icy cold. Then I realised the air in the cabin was actually frosty. My breath came out in little white puffs.  
  
'What’s going on?' I said.  
  
'I don’t know,' Anita said. She had two quilts wrapped around her, but her teeth were still chattering. Around the cabin, my other half-siblings were awake (I guess I’d been screaming in my sleep) and looking just as cold. 'But it’s snowing, look.' She drew the curtains of our cabin window.  
  
'Snowing' was an understatement. Plumes of white swirled madly in the air in an angry, icy whirlwind. Some of it hit the window with more force than I thought possible.  
  
I was dumbfounded. We occasionally got snow at Camp Half-Blood, but nothing like a blizzard of this scale. Bad weather tended to get repelled by our magic boundaries, same as monsters.  
  
'Someone up there must be really pissed off,' Arthur Doolin said nervously.  
  
We stayed in our cabins all day, as trudging to the mess hall would be like hiking across Alaska. It was impossible to see beyond the furthest row of cabins. Cabin eleven did a roaring trade in snacks, at least until Clarisse and her siblings from cabin five threatened to bash their heads in if they didn’t share.  
  
Fortunately, the blizzard didn’t last long, and one good thing that came of it was that it left the canoe lake frozen over for several days. That was actually fun—the Hephaestus kids forged skates for everyone and we chased each other all over the ice until it melted, to the relief of the naiads, who swarmed the Big House, shivering and distressed.  
  
A few days later, we got a couple of scorching hot days (in the middle of winter!) and we languished at night in sweltering cabins. Nobody got much sleep, and a bunch of campers ended up in the infirmary with heatstroke. The Apollo kids had to beg the wind nymphs to flutter round our windows to give us some breeze.  
  
The crazy stuff ended quickly after that. I think Mr D got tired of dealing with complaints from the nymphs. He probably wasn’t too fond of putting up with the weather either. We went back to a typical mild January, but if you looked out over the Sound, you could tell that mainland New York was still being bombarded by storms of crackling energy and searing heat spells. Some of it still trickled over, like the faint rumble of an earthquake and the sea storms that whipped the waters of the Long Island Sound into frenzied white horses. Trips to the beach were forbidden, not that any of us were particularly keen to go in the middle of winter. I wondered how Grover was dealing with all of it over on the mainland. I thought about sending him an Iris message, but we weren’t really supposed to contact the satyrs during their missions. If Grover was already hanging around with a half-blood, a rainbow carrying a face might be a bad shock for the poor kid.  
  
Weird weather usually meant the gods are ticked off about something. When that happened, there’d be a good chance that they’d want help to sort something out. When Chiron got up to make an announcement before dinner, I thought they might finally have persuaded him to call for a quest.  
  
But what he told us was that he was going away for several months.  
  
This was a real shock. It wasn’t uncommon for Chiron to leave the camp from time to time; he usually took a week’s vacation around February, when he visited relatives down south (though he always came back from these looking ironically more worn out than before he’d left), but for him to stay away for so long …  
  
He didn’t offer details on where he was going, and the mess hall burst into nervous speculation.  
  
'Not to worry, kids, Mr D will have someone coming in to help out.'  
  
Mr D gave Chiron a sour look, as though he were annoyed by the trouble this would make for him.  
  
After dinner, when everyone was toasting marshmallows in the central hearth, I slipped over to the Big House and knocked on the door to Chiron’s apartment.  
  
'Come in,' Chiron called.  
  
The first time I’d been in Chiron’s sitting room, the only furniture had been a high coffee table and a bunch of cushions with string fringes. These were still there, but he’d added a couple of armchairs since and the cushions now resided on them. One armchair held a stack of long-sleeve dress shirts, so unlike the casual t-shirts Chiron usually wore. They were neatly folded, with their collars starched and ironed. A couple of tweed sweater vests lay on top of them.  
  
'Ah, Annabeth,' Chiron said. He was packing a bunch of books into a saddlebag. I couldn’t read the titles easily, but they seemed to be in Latin. Some had pictures of the gods and goddesses on them. 'Have a seat. Do you want a drink?'  
  
'No, thanks. Are you really going to be gone for months?'  
  
'I’m afraid so.'  
  
'Is it a quest? Does it have anything to do with the funny stuff on Olympus?'  
  
'No, it isn’t. This is more of a … well, let’s call it a scouting mission. I can’t say any more than that. And as for Olympus, I hope it won’t be connected, but I have my misgivings about the whole matter. The gods can be … well, that’s neither here nor there.'  
  
I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t offer any more information.  
  
'Are the gods fighting, Chiron?' I asked.  
  
'What makes you say that?' He continued pulling books off his shelves and shoving them in his saddlebag.  
  
'Well, the weather is all messed up. And what you said, when we got back from Olympus last week, about something happening there.'  
  
Chiron hesitated, his fingers lingering over one volume. He seemed to be considering something. When he pulled the book out, he didn’t throw it in his bag, but instead held it out to me.  
  
'I think this will be useful to you,' he said.  
  
I took it. It was thin, with a hard cover that felt like tree bark. The title was in Greek, so I didn’t have any trouble reading it: _The Iliad_. On the cover was a picture of a broad-shouldered man emerging from the sea, watching a battle proceed under a cloud of thunder.  
  
'Thank you,' I said, though he seemed to be avoiding answering my question. The book did remind me of something I wanted to ask him before he left, though. 'Chiron, will you still be able to issue a quest when you’re away?'  
  
Chiron looked at me in surprise. 'My dear, surely you know that I don’t control the quests?'  
  
'You don’t? But you wouldn’t give any out for the last two years—'  
  
'I give my advice, that’s all. Personally, I was never a fan of having my campers go questing. You’re all so very young. It used to be, heroes were much older, they got to train for longer. We lose so many of you now to monsters as it is. But there is always that argument that it builds character …'  
  
'When we were on Olympus, the gods wanted to know if any of us had completed a quest yet. They sort of told us we weren’t worth anything if we didn’t.'  
  
'I’m not sure they realise how old you really are. When you’re immortal, it gets hard to differentiate the ages of humans. And you know, not every demigod undertakes a quest. There’s nothing wrong with living a long, happy life. It’s much safer, in fact.'  
  
'But I want to have a quest!'  
  
'We talked about this before, Annabeth.'  
  
I ground my teeth in frustration. Two years ago, when the Oracle had given me the recycled Great Prophecy instead of a proper one for myself, Chiron had caught me in the middle of it, making me miss two of the lines. Worse still, he had decreed that if I was supposed to be involved in that prophecy, it was more important to keep me safe. Besides, he’d said, there were no pressing issues to be resolved on Olympus, and there probably wouldn’t be until the Great Prophecy came round to fulfilment. Which it wouldn’t, until the 'half-blood of the eldest gods' showed up.  
  
Given that it had been over fifty years and the only known kid of the Big Three was now a tree, things weren’t looking promising.  
  
(Personally, I thought the conclusion that 'a child of the eldest gods' must be sired by Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades might be a bit hasty. I’d read up lots on the Olympians since Chiron and I had first talked about the prophecy. There were six original Olympians after all, and depending on how you looked at it, the oldest of them was also the youngest. Demeter had a bunch of children, too. Unfortunately, none of the cabin four residents seemed remotely interested in taking up a quest. I’d scouted them out and they’d just looked at me like I was crazy. They were more interested in tending the strawberry fields and petitioning to start a grain field, too.)  
  
'Chiron, it’s already been two years,' I pleaded. 'I’m ready. I can handle a quest.'  
  
'If you really want to be out in the world, you have other options, you know. I know I can’t technically forbid you to leave camp during term time. If you want to go home to your father, you certainly may.'  
  
I scowled. Chiron knew how I felt about living with my dad. Besides, he was missing the point. A quest wasn’t just about monsters. Sure, defeating them got you plenty of street cred around camp, but being a hero wasn’t just slaying monsters—that just came with the territory. If you wanted to succeed, you needed wits. All the best heroes were smart, like Perseus and Atalanta. They didn’t always charge in, swords blazing. Quest challenges didn’t just feature the usual, run-of-the-mill demigod-hunting beasts. They were ancient archetypes that you needed to understand. You had to recognise what you were facing, identify their weaknesses, attack with a strategy.  
  
Perfect for a daughter of Athena, I thought. Not that I’d ever had a chance to prove it.  
  
'I want you to promise me that you won’t run off rashly,' Chiron said. 'Be patient, Annabeth. You _can_ wait a little longer. Your time will come.'  
  
I sighed. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard the speech; it seemed like all I did was wait. I wondered if Chiron would keep promising that my chance would arrive until I was twenty. But I promised. Chiron was more of a father to me than my actual dad. Whatever I felt about his annoying refusal to send me on a quest, I trusted him.  
  
'Here,' Chiron said, handing me another book. This one was thicker, and in English, but it showed an assortment of the world’s greatest monuments on the cover. 'I imagine you’ll enjoy this. But don’t forget to read the other one, too.'  
  
He was right. It would be worth slogging through the text just to learn all the facts about the monuments. My frustration with him melted away and I hugged him tightly around the waist. Chiron patted my head kindly.  
  
'I’m going to miss you, Chiron,' I said.  
  
'Don’t worry,' he said. 'It’ll be summer before you know it, and I’ll be back. Now run along. It’s almost curfew.'  
  
I took the two books he’d given me and left him to finish packing.  
  
OoOoO  
  
Over the next few months, I made it my business to find out everything I could about what was going on in the outside world. I remembered my mother’s advice in my dream on Olympus: _train hard_ , and _let your head guide you_. Unless I knew things, how would I be prepared? I devoured _The Iliad_ almost as quickly as I did the book of monuments (I hoped Chiron wouldn’t mind me scribbling over the latter; I’d marked them all for easy reference: my favourites, the ones I’d seen before, and the ones I thought I had a reasonable chance of seeing in the future). _The Iliad_ turned out to be fairly interesting. It was the story of the hero Achilles, and it morphed into a full out battle between the Greeks and the Trojans, egged on by the gods. My mom, on the side of the Greeks, went head to head with Ares early on. On her other ancient rivalry with Poseidon, the story didn’t say much, though I found it interesting that they fought on the same side and even co-operated at one point—under duress—to built a chariot together.  
  
Several of the satyrs who had been out scouting returned with the half-bloods they’d found—the few who had attracted too much monster attention to wait until summer. I scrutinised each one eagerly, in case they were the prophesied hero I was waiting for. Naturally, they went first to the Hermes cabin, which wasn’t as crowded as it typically was during summer session. I hung around there so much, Luke finally pulled me aside after sparring practice and told me, gently, that I was breaking the rules.  
  
'Look, I appreciate you looking out for the new kids,' he said, 'but they’re settling in okay. Until we know who their parent is, they’re cabin eleven—and you’re not.'  
  
'It’s not—I’m not, really, well … it’s not that, exactly …' I was a bit embarrassed to admit to Luke, who was a senior counsellor and looked after _everyone_ , that I wasn’t really coming around out of concern for the new kids' wellbeing.  
  
Luke gave me a knowing look. 'Ah, I get it.' He winked. 'Which one is it, then? Probably not Maia, though hey, if that’s your taste, it’s totally cool. I suppose Malcolm is a bit young … though he’s only a year younger, isn’t he?'  
  
'What—no! It’s not like that!' I blushed furiously when I realised what he was teasing me about. Luke only grinned wider, taking my response as more evidence. 'It’s, well …' I hesitated. I’d promised Chiron before that I wouldn’t tell anybody about the Great Prophecy, but I found that I couldn’t stand for Luke to think I liked someone else. 'It’s just that they might be the sign that I can get a quest.' I skirted around the prophecy, making it sound as though the Oracle had just told Chiron it was my destiny to wait for a special someone. It sounded a bit lame, like one of those princess-in-the-tower tales the Aphrodite girls always told when it was their turn for campfire stories, but it was the best I could do without breaking my promise outright. 'So I had to know if it was them, you know? I’ve _got_ to get a quest.'  
  
Luke rubbed his chin. 'Wow. Just like the Oracle not to be clear about who you’re waiting for, huh?'  
  
'Yeah, it’s annoying.'  
  
'Well, you know, quests aren’t really all they’re made out to be, anyway.'  
  
'Just because you f—' I began hotly, but stopped quickly, wishing I could bite my tongue off. 'I mean, at least you’ve had the chance. That’s all I want. To know if I’m any good.'  
  
Luke’s eyes were unfathomable. I cursed inwardly. Here we were, talking as we hadn’t done in ages, and I had to walk straight into the touchiest subject there was for him.  
  
'I’m sorry,' I said in a small voice. 'I didn’t mean to remind you.'  
  
'No, Annabeth, I am. It’s okay—I’m over it now. I’ve got more important things to focus on.' His elvish eyes crinkled in a smile and he patted my hand. My heart did a somersault. 'I know how important a quest is to you.'  
  
We sat in silence for a little while longer, then he got up, picked up his sword, and headed off.  
  
OoOoO  
  
I finally decided that none of the new campers were prophecy material. The eleven-year-old, Malcolm Pace, got claimed soon enough, and he turned out to be my half-sibling. Guilty about shadowing him for my own ulterior motives, I helped him move into the Athena cabin. He seemed to think I was just being friendly all along. The other two remained, parentage undetermined, with cabin eleven. Keith Dyson was thirteen, and unlike Malcolm, he didn’t view my company quite as favourably. He tended to avoid me, giving me suspicious glances whenever I passed. He had stringy brown hair like Clarisse and hard, narrow eyes. I decided that he’d probably be an Ares kid if the war god ever got round to claiming him—not someone I would want to work with anyway. The girl, Maia Reyes, was fifteen, and probably would have survived for longer outside if the monsters in New York hadn’t suddenly been on red alert.  
  
I found this out from Perry Barkwell, the satyr who had brought her in. He’d been surprised; apparently he’d scouted her school for several years without realising she was one of us.  
  
'What do you mean they’re on red alert?' I asked.  
  
Perry chewed nervously on the edge of a cardboard box. 'I really shouldn’t say …'  
  
'My friend Grover’s out there. I’m worried about him. If the monsters are getting more active …'  
  
'I’m sure he’s fine. Chiron’s with him, isn’t he?'  
  
'He is?'  
  
'Yeah, apparently he thinks he’s found someone really powerful.'  
  
My eyes widened. Perry seemed to realise he’d said too much and clammed up. I couldn’t get any more out of him after that.  
  
Life at camp went on. Mr D had found a short-term substitute for Chiron, but the stand-in activities director, Triptolemus, was pretty boring. His idea of a good activity was plowing the fields, and upon discovering that all we had was a strawberry crop, he proceeded to set us to sowing a wheat field. This delighted the Demeter cabin, who threw themselves happily into the task. The rest of us were a little less thrilled to be sent out into the fields to do boring, back-breaking work.  
  
Every night, I read more of _The Iliad_. Malcolm noticed what I was doing and started to ask me about it. I read some of it to him, explaining the parts that were harder to understand, and adding some of the other myths I knew, like the ones Ariadne had told us on Olympus. That, of course, led to a discussion about the winter solstice field trip. Before I knew it, a whole crowd of kids—mostly younger, but some of the older ones, too—wanted to know more about the stuff I was telling Malcolm, and I found myself giving an impromptu lecture on Ancient Greece.  
  
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It was something like what my father did for a living—he was a history professor at West Point—and he wasn’t exactly the role model I wanted to emulate.  
  
May rolled around, and more satyrs started to trip back as their respective school terms let up. They all returned alone, some of them dejected by failures (every year, there were half-bloods who inevitably got killed), others reporting that the demigods they’d located hadn’t come into their scent yet and would likely last another year undetected. They all seemed uneasy about something they’d learned when they were out, though, something they refused to talk about with the campers. If we walked by when they were discussing it, they’d shut right up. The only thing I managed to confirm was that something was wrong on Olympus.  
  
The only way I was going to get any real information out of them was if they couldn’t see me coming.  
  
And then I realised I had the perfect weapon. It was time to put my birthday present to good use.  
  
It was risky to sneak around in the Big House—the one time I’d tried, I’d gotten caught almost right away—but I planned it out carefully. I chose an afternoon when Triptolemus was overseeing was weeding of the furthest field and Mr D had set up a pinochle game with the elder satyrs. It would be even safer if Mr D was actually away, but I figured that my best chance of hearing anything about the gods would be to eavesdrop on the satyrs’ actual conversation _with_ one.  
  
First I made sure to let Triptolemus see me with the other campers. He still couldn’t remember our names, but he always ticked off our attendance right at the beginning of fieldwork. I then picked the furthest corner of the field and disappeared among the highest weeds, hunching over so they would obscure me, and put on the Yankees cap.  
  
My body vanished. Slowly, so as not to rustle the crops too much and give away my own position, I inched back round to the edge of the fields. Once I was past Triptolemus, I sprinted for the Big House. Invisible, I slipped past the infirmary (it was unusually crowded, mostly because half the Hermes cabin was faking sick to get out of the fields) and sidled up near the door that opened out to the back porch. I knew I couldn’t get too close, because satyrs could sense emotions and I didn’t want them realising I was hanging about.  
  
I heard the nervous bleating laugh of one of the satyrs. 'He’s really mad. I don’t want to know what will happen if he doesn’t get it back by the summer solstice.'  
  
'Well, it definitely wasn’t at any of the schools we scouted,' another satyr said. 'And it’s not here, obviously. Whoever stole it hid it good.'  
  
There was no sign of Mr D—he didn’t appear to have joined the satyrs at the card table yet, but that didn’t matter. The satyrs’ conversation was already informative enough.  
  
'Do you really think it’s stolen?'  
  
'Of course—would a god misplace something like _that_?'  
  
'But you know, even if he figures out where it is, the rules won’t let him fetch it himself. He’d need a hero to do it for him.'  
  
'A quest?'  
  
'If it’s really one of the sons, though …'  
  
I listened intently, definitely interested now. I hoped they might work back around to what exactly was stolen. This was exactly what I needed to know.  
  
'A son of Zeus? He wouldn’t steal from his dad.'  
  
'He could get it back, though.'  
  
Loud plodding footsteps sounded down the hall, accompanied by the scraping of a wheel on the wooden farmhouse floor. I held my breath as Mr D advanced, followed by a man in a wheelchair.  
  
'At least you’re back at last from that fool’s errand,' Mr D said irritably. 'I can finally get rid of Triptolemus’s idiotic wheat fields.'  
  
I stifled a grin at the thought that Mr D was as irked by the wheat fields as we were, then the meaning of his words sank in. Completely forgetting I was invisible, I squealed, 'Chiron!'  
  
'Furies of Hades!' Mr D cried. 'Who’s there?'  
  
Mortified, I pulled off my invisibility cap. 'Sorry, sir.'  
  
'Annabeth? What on Olympus are you doing?' Chiron said. He was dressed in one of the fancy shirts I’d seen on his armchair when he was packing. He rose out of the wheelchair, returning to his stallion half.  
  
'Um, welcoming you back,' I said quickly.  
  
Mr D gave me the stink-eye. 'Go get those lazy brats out of the infirmary. We’re closing the fields, so you can tell them there’s no need to pretend any more.'  
  
'Pretend?' Chiron said.  
  
I let Mr D fill him in. When a god gives you an order, you don’t wait around or disobey. I quickly ran down the hallway to give the others the good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as I can glean, Athena and Poseidon’s chariot-building truce isn’t actually in the _Iliad_. I couldn’t find any other mythological reference to that truce, though, so I figured why not attribute it to a war where they were reportedly supporting the same team? If anyone knows where it actually does comes from, let me know!


	4. The Oracle Gives Me A Hint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Camp Half-Blood gears up for the summer session, Annabeth gets some responsibility and revisits a painful old memory, and a strange kid turns up at the Big House.

With Chiron back, the camp was gearing up for summer. In a few days, the buses would arrive, bringing our regular campers back. The cabins—excepting the four that were pretty much honorary—would be filled again as our numbers tripled. The summer campfires would start up, and best of all, capture the flag. I was determined to win the first game of the summer to show Chiron just how ready I was for a quest.

The day before the summer campers were due to arrive, Chiron called a counsellors’ meeting. I was surprised when Luke came to get Anita and me, saying that Chiron had specifically asked for us to be there, too.

We were the last to arrive. Six head counsellors were already gathered around the pool table in the recreation room of the Big House. Camp rules dictated that the position of counsellor passed on to the oldest remaining camper, unless someone with quest experience wanted to challenge for the position. Since no quests had been issued in the last two years, there weren’t many of us who could claim that honour. So the counsellors were mainly older campers who’d been around at least two or three years. Luke was head counsellor for Hermes cabin, of course, and at nineteen, he was one of the oldest half-bloods still at camp. Clarisse was probably the youngest, at fourteen, and she had been newly appointed last fall when the previous Ares counsellor had left camp for good.

Only one cabin (aside from the four unoccupied ones) was unrepresented—my own—and I realised immediately why Chiron must have called for Anita, though I was still uncertain what I was doing here.

'Where’s Ruthann?' Anita said. 'Is she coming with the buses?' The head counsellors who weren’t year-rounders usually tried to get to camp earlier for the meeting, but perhaps our cabin leader had been delayed. I think we both hoped she had, though I guessed we sensed the truth.

'Ruthann’s family moved to San Francisco last year,' Chiron said. Everyone winced. San Francisco was well known to be monster central—close to the entrance of the Underworld and the migrated seat of power for the gods' great (but fortunately defeated) enemies: the Titans. ’Unfortunately, she went with them, and—well, an Acromanthon found her there.'

Anita gasped. I shuddered involuntarily. Losing a camper to monsters was devastating enough; for a daughter of Athena to fall to a giant spider, our mortal enemy and greatest fear, was infinitely worse.

'This means, of course, that cabin six is in need of a new counsellor,' Chiron continued. 'Anita, as oldest member of cabin six—'

'I don’t want it!' Tears streamed down Anita’s face. She’d been quite tight with Ruthann, and the news had clearly shaken her. 'I never wanted to lead the cabin.'

'I was afraid you would feel that way, my dear, which is why I asked Annabeth to come, too. Annabeth, you’ve been asking me for more responsibility for a while now. I thought you could help Anita to carry out her duties as counsellor.'

'Chiron, she’s only twelve,' Clarisse protested.

I stuck my chin out and opened my mouth to retort that she’d barely turned fourteen herself when she’d got her position. Luke beat me to it, though.

'She’s also been here longer than you,' he said. His tone was mild, but his words were pointed. I threw him a grateful look. His returning smile gave me a warm glow inside.

'I want her help,' Anita said quickly. She turned her tear-streaked face to me. 'Please, Annabeth.' I knew she meant it. Anita was brainy and book-smart, but she hated being put in charge of anything.

'I think Annabeth is sufficiently familiar with the rhythm of things around here,' Chiron said pleasantly. 'And perhaps she will have the ability to take over in time. That is,' he looked at me, 'if you accept the position.'

'I do,' I said. My fingers drifted up to the five beads on my camp necklace: one for each summer of experience. I was glad Chiron had finally recognised that, but what did he mean, the ability to take over? Only a camper with a quest under their belt could challenge for the counsellor position.

My heart leapt.

'That’s settled, then,' Chiron said with a nod. Clarisse muttered mutinously under her breath, but none of the other counsellors seemed perturbed.

'Moving on,' Chiron continued, 'I’m appointing Luke and Darinia camp leaders for this year. They’ll be responsible for arranging cabin inspections and overseeing general discipline—along with Mr D and myself, of course—and if the rest of you need any help or advice, they’re your senior counsellors to go to.

'Now, to duties—as you know, each cabin will lead a segment of the training activities. As counsellors, you will be in charge of scheduling and manning your respective stations. You may enlist your cabin mates to assist as instructors. Remember, we are all here to learn, and there is much you can learn from one another.'

He went around the table, checking off each cabin against a list of activity stations. Some of the cabins had their own natural specialties that they always oversaw, like the archers in Apollo and the Hephaestus kids at the forge. Others tended to rotate activities based on whatever their head counsellor excelled in. Luke, for example, was the best sword fighter Camp Half-Blood had seen in centuries, so ever since he’d become a counsellor, Hermes cabin had taken over fencing instruction. Ruthann’s thing had been weaving—a natural talent of our mother’s, but not one I had spent much time cultivating. I wasn’t sure I could keep up with it.

'Cabin six … ah, I suppose you wouldn’t be keen on continuing the weaving classes?'

Anita gave me a panicked look. She wasn’t fantastic at weaving either. I said, 'Not really,' and racked my brains for something we could do instead. I thought of Malcolm Pace and the other campers who had been so interested in my storytelling, and an idea hit me. 'I could do an Ancient Greek class. You know, all the mythologies about the gods and goddesses, and the old heroes, too. Monsters are always reborn from the myths, right? It’d be important to know how they operate and the best way to outsmart them.'

I could hear Clarisse scoffing. Her idea of dealing with monsters was pretty much one size fit all: charge and destroy. Ares cabin was going to lead wrestling again.

'Yes, you’re right,' Chiron said. 'I see you’ve been taking your reading seriously. Ancient Greek it is. I’m sure it will be enlightening.' He made a note against my cabin on his sheet. 'Can you make up a schedule and lesson plan for me by the end of tomorrow?' I nodded, and he moved on to Lee Fletcher from cabin seven.

'Thanks,' Anita mouthed at me.

Once Chiron had gotten the list of activities for each cabin, he dismissed us, but I lingered, hoping he’d say something to me when the others were gone. I waited until the last counsellor had left the room, and took the chair closest to him.

'Did you have a question, Annabeth? You should ask Luke or Darinia. Good practice for them.'

'No, sir—I mean, yes, I do have a question, but it’s not about camp stuff.'

Chiron put down his notepad. 'Go on.'

'You said … earlier you said I might be able to take over as head counsellor. Did you mean, like, challenge for the position?'

'Well, I’m sure you’ll be an excellent leader,' Chiron said. I waited for him to go on, but he didn’t.

'I thought you might have said that because, um,' I bit my lip, 'you might have a quest for me.'

'I’m sorry to have got your hopes up,' Chiron said gently.

Disappointment crashed down on me. 'I thought for sure, with the summer solstice thing … and the theft …'

'How did you—never mind, I don’t want to know how you’ve found out as much as you have. But it doesn’t matter. The gods will have to resolve their own quarrel for once. It’s not safe for a quest now. We’re already losing too many.'

'But there is something going on? The gods want to issue a quest?'

'I talked them out of it,' Chiron said shortly. 'I reminded them we had no one who fit the bill.'

'What! That’s not fair. I could do it, if you just told me—'

'Annabeth.' Chiron rubbed his forehead wearily, as though he was tired of rehashing this conversation. To be fair, we had revisited the subject plenty of times. It was just, nothing ever changed, even though it should have by now. 'It’s nothing to do with you. The gods suspect … well, my job is to protect you. All of you.'

A jolt went up my spine, like a sudden burst of electricity. 'It’s him, isn’t it?' I said. 'The kid in the prophecy. Grover found him, and he’s a son of Zeus. That’s why he called you. That’s why you went away.'

'Annabeth, this really isn’t your business …'

'Please, Chiron, if it’s the kid in the prophecy, I need to know!'

Chiron sighed. 'First off, you know I couldn’t tell you if I did—it wouldn’t be right for me to go about sharing details about another camper with you. If Grover brings him in—and I hope he won’t have to yet—you’ll have plenty of time to meet him and get to know him yourself. Secondly, I really don’t know. I can’t tell you for sure who his parent is. It’s like with every new camper—he’ll be undetermined until the gods claim him. And I have a feeling they may not be so quick to do so at the moment.'

'Why? Because they’re fighting? But if they want his help, they’ll claim him, won’t they? And I could help him, if he gets a quest!'

'Look, even if Grover’s kid fits the bill, he’s still very young. You’re still very young, for that matter. We have to train him up. Perhaps in a year or two—'

'A year? But what about the summer solstice deadline?'

'It doesn’t matter. I will keep you safe as long as it is within my power to do so. I would very much like to see you grow up, my dear.'

I didn’t answer him. It wasn’t fair. I wasn’t too young. I nearly stamped my foot in frustration. Well, fine. If Chiron wouldn’t set me up with this kid and a quest, I’d catch Grover when he got back and find out everything he knew about the boy, and the summer solstice, and …

'And I don’t want to catch you talking about this to anyone,' Chiron warned.

Hades! I didn’t look at him as I stomped out of the recreation room, letting the door bang shut behind me. Clarisse and a few of her buddies were hanging around near the back porch. A few snatches of their conversation carried over: Chiron’s pet … like a spoilt little princess …

I almost snorted with derision. As if.

OoOoOoO

I stayed mad for the rest of the day. We were supposed to make sure our cabins were ready for the summer campers, but there wasn’t much to do for cabin six. Athena’s children all tend to be fairly orderly. Anita and I cleaned out Ruthann’s bunk, and that was depressing enough to dull my anger, but only a little. She hadn’t left that much behind since her last visit at winter break: a couple of t-shirts and shorts, a piece of rainbow-coloured cloth that was frayed at the edges, and, pinned to the wall over her bunk, a large crow feather about the size of my head. Ruthann was one of the last campers to have a quest, the year before Luke. She’d had to free a sacred crow from some trap—I didn’t remember the details, although the story had been fascinating back then. I thought the feather was a token of thanks.

Anita packed up the old clothes and said she’d take care of them, but she looked dubiously at the feather. She said, ’It should probably go with the other old quest trophies in the attic. Could you—?’

I nodded and took the feather, but left it on my pillow. I’d bring it up to the Big House later; I wasn’t in the mood to go back right now. Then I took my bronze knife and stalked out to the archery range. It was empty, since the Apollo kids who usually practised there in their free time were still at their cabins. I glared at one of the targets, took careful aim, and let my knife fly.

It sank into the bulls-eye, or at least I thought it did, until I jogged over to retrieve it and saw I was actually an inch off. I returned to my starting position to go again.

I pictured monsters, snarling and ugly, standing between me and my goals. It was figurative, of course, but I needed something to fight. I hurled my knife again; a hit like before, but this time my aim was even more off. So I kept at it. I sank my knife into hundreds of imaginary demons: gorgons and drakons and giants (but no spiders; even mental pictures of those terrified me).

I kept at this for hours, until the shadows of the trees were starting to grow long and my knife was starting to grow hot in my hand. A rustling from the bushes caught my attention immediately. I turned warily, knife at the ready. An over-reaction, maybe, since it was probably just a dryad or something; no one who wasn’t meant to be here could pass the magical boundaries without permission from one of us. But I’d been battling pretend monsters all afternoon, so my mind was still alert for threats.

A sandy head popped up out of the brush. 'You’re not going to throw that at me, are you?'

I lowered my knife. 'Luke! Where did you come from?'

'Oh, you know, just the forest,' he said vaguely. 'I was scouting. Preparing for capture the flag and all. You’re gonna be on my team this year, aren’t you?'

My dark mood, already mellowed after an afternoon slaying imaginary monsters, lifted more. 'I hope so,' I said. 'I’ve, um, got some good strategies.' This wasn’t precisely true—I hadn’t spared a great deal of thought for capture the flag yet, but I was confident that I’d be able to come up with a foolproof battle strategy once I focused on it.

'We’ll make an alliance, then,' Luke said. 'I’d best be on my way. See you later.'

I watched him stroll up the beaten path towards the main camp for a while. Then I turned my attention calmly back to the target, not really seeing anything in particular. I took aim and hurled.

This time, I scored a perfect bulls eye.

OoOoOoO

When I finally left the archery range, the sun was almost beyond the horizon and Chiron was blowing the conch horn for dinner. I hurried to join my cabin mates—four of us who had wintered at camp, anyway—nothing that once summer session was properly begun, it would be Anita and my job to lead them in.

At the end of the meal, Chiron banged his front hoof on a rock for attention.

'Campers, we will be beginning our summer session shortly,' he said. 'I would like to remind you all that your friends will be arriving tomorrow, so if you haven’t already, I would advise you ensure that your living quarters are ready for them.' He looked significantly between the Ares and Aphrodite tables when he said this. 'As in previous years, we will leave you all to settle in and summer camp will begin properly the day after tomorrow. I hope everyone is excited!'

A loud cheer started at the Ares table and went round the pavilion. Someone from Hermes wolf-whistled.

'On that note, I am pleased to announce your camp leaders for this summer—Luke and Darinia.' There was an outburst of cheers and applause, loudest at the Hermes and Demeter tables. 'Most of your cabin counsellors you already know, but for Athena cabin, Anita Hawthorne and Annabeth Chase will be taking over as co-counsellors.'

The clapping was a bit more muted, since the circumstances surrounding our promotion weren’t exactly festive. I felt slightly guilty as well. Having been at the archery range all afternoon, I’d left Anita to handle breaking the bad news about Ruthann.

'Activity schedules will be posted at the Big House on Tuesday morning. Your counsellors will also be passing them around then. And that’s all for now. Dismissed!'

'We’re going to have a funeral pyre for Ruthann, right?' Arthur said on the walk back to the cabins.

'We haven’t—well, we have to get Chrion’s okay, I think,' Anita said uncertainly. She looked to me for back up.

'Um, yeah, we’ll ask Chiron,' I said. It hadn’t really crossed my mind. Stuff like this had always been organised by someone else—by Ruthann. I realised Anita did know how much more the job held than arranging duties and chores. Counsellors were supposed to actually take charge, take care of all the kids in the cabin and their needs. Earlier, I’d been so confident and proud that Chiron and Anita wanted my help, but already I was failing. Little knives of guilt stabbed at me. I guess I really didn’t have any grounds to be mad at Chiron for treating me like a child. 'I’ll ask Chiron,' I amended.

'We need a shroud,' Arthur said.

Anita winced. 'Ruthann could have made the most beautiful shroud.' She sounded like she was going to start crying again.

I nodded. 'Celia’s good at weaving, too,' I said, running through the other members of our cabin in my head. 'When everyone is back, we’ll get it sorted.'

'Why do we need a shroud?' Malcolm asked. 'There’s no—well, we don’t have her, um, body …'

We reached the cabin then and my eyes went immediately to my pillow, where Ruthann’s raven feather lay. I had completely forgotten about it. I figured I might as well bring it over to the attic at the Big House now, before something else came up to distract me. I grabbed it and left the cabin, leaving Arthur and Anita to explain our funeral traditions to Malcolm.

As I traipsed across the lawns, I noticed that the sky was unnaturally dark, as though the light of the stars was failing to filter down. I realised it was because of a pool of inky clouds that were forming an ominous ring over the far slope of Half-Blood Hill. More weird weather. It seemed to be skirting the camp, but it cast a shadow over us nonetheless. A low rumble echoed over the hills, but no flash of lightning accompanied it.

Seeing the skies hanging so threateningly over Thalia’s tree made me uneasy. It had looked exactly like this the day I’d arrived at Camp Half-Blood: grim and unforgiving, with the howling wind whipping and snatching at us like the Furies we’d been trying to outrun. I almost fancied I could hear the enraged howl of a savage beast.

I hurried on. Those weren’t memories I cared to relive.

I heard the low murmur of conversation when I passed Chiron’s apartment in the Big House. He was probably sending an Iris message or two. I climbed the four flights of stairs to reach the attic trapdoor. It was the storage place for all the artefacts campers had left behind, including spoils of war that had been discarded. I’d only been here once, though it hadn’t been to stow stuff.

The attic was also where the Oracle of Delphi lived.

She wasn’t a real person—at least, not any more. Decades ago, the speaker of prophecies had been cursed, and now all that was left of the old one was a decaying body. Getting a prophecy for a quest was a gruesome business: the Oracle couldn’t deliver them without billows of putrid green smoke.

She stared at me now with her glassy, empty eyes.

'I don’t suppose you have any hints for me?'

I didn’t really expect her to answer. So I was shocked when a wisp of green smoke, like a breath in freezing air, escaped her mouth. It pooled and thickened, and then the green mist enveloped me, making my eyes water and my head spin. Fear tightened like a vise around my chest. There were rumours among the campers that the Oracle could drive you crazy. It was why visiting it without permission was supposed to be forbidden. The only time I’d ever asked her a question, it hadn’t been like this, and I wondered now if I’d pushed a bit too far.

I felt myself falling.

Three blobs grew out of the mist, resolving into the stooped figures of three wizened old ladies. Their wrinkles were carved so deeply, their faces looked like ancient, weathered rock. In fact, I would have thought they were stone statues if their hands had not been active. Each of them held a ball of yarn—one green, one blue, and one grey—and they were all knitting frantically. Their needles went so fast, they were a blur. It was astonishing how quickly three ancient women like them could use their fingers so deftly.

I had never seen any of them before, but I thought I could guess who they were: the legendary Fates, who were responsible for weaving the fabric of our lives.

Clickety-clack went the needles, twining the three balls of yarn into a massive quilt at dizzying speed. The centre Fate took out a pair of scissors and snipped off one of the threads, but I couldn’t see which ball of yarn it had come from.

The Fates looked directly at me. They began to chant in a raspy voice I had heard only once before:

One that bid his time for many a year  
The fate of Olympus, the time draws near  
A god maligned, desperate card to be played  
Daughter of wisdom awaits her prophesied fate  
A quest unfolds only when safety is torn  
Child of the prophecy arrives by morn.

I heard a faint roar, as though the wind was carrying the enraged howl of a fearsome beast from beyond the camp’s boundaries. The mist swirled, reducing the Fates and their knitting to insubstantial smoke. Four tiny figures took their place, running across the room. It was like watching a holographic movie in mute: three kids and a satyr raced across smoky hills, pursued by a dark shadow.

It was tapping into my memories, showing me the worst day of my life.

The smallest kid stumbled, falling behind. Her two friends ran back for her while the satyr hopped nervously from foot to foot. The monsters descended upon them: winged Furies flanked by a pack of hellhounds.

The boy dragged the girl who stumbled to her feet and helped her clamber up the hill towards the satyr. The other girl drew her sword and sliced down the nearest Fury. She shouted at her companions.

The scene had no sound, but I remembered perfectly well what Thalia had said: ’Go, Luke! Get Annabeth to safety. I’ll hold them off!’

I closed my eyes and lay my head on the rough wooden floorboards of the attic. I didn’t know how long I lay curled up there. When I opened my eyes again, the mist had receded. The stars that had shone through the skylight before had been blotted out by dark clouds, leaving the room pitch black. My ears rang in the attic’s silence.

Outside, someone wailed desperately. I heard a thump downstairs, loud enough to carry up four storeys.

I froze for a second, then leapt through the trapdoor and raced down the stairs, taking them three at a time. I nearly crashed into Chiron exiting his apartments. He said, 'Annabeth? What are you doing—' but I didn’t stay to let him finish the question. I didn’t stop until I’d flung open the main door.

On the front porch were two bedraggled bodies. I recognised one of them immediately: my friend Grover Underwood, divested of his human disguise. Wet fur clung to his goat legs. He was unconscious, but his chest was heaving.

The other was a shivering boy about my age, with black hair plastered against the sides of his face. My first thought was, I know him! But I couldn’t think where I’d seen him before. His hands were gripping Grover tightly, like he’d just dragged him up the steps before collapsing himself. He was clearly spent, his breath coming in hard, ragged gasps. Yet he seemed to crackle with energy. I was forcefully reminded of Thalia. It dawned on me that I was the age she’d been when we’d got to camp.

The skies shook with another crackle of thunder. I stared at the black-haired boy, my mind racing frantically.

Grover … this unknown but strangely familiar boy … the Oracle’s words … the resemblance to Thalia … Everything seemed to be falling into place.

A half-blood of the eldest gods … Child of the prophecy arrives by morn.

Excitement bubbled up from the pit of my stomach.

'He’s the one,' I breathed. 'He has to be!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, the Acromanthon isn’t actually from Greek mythology. I adapted it from Harry Potter.


	5. A Strange New Camper Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Speculation runs wild around camp about the mysterious wonder kid who slayed a Minotaur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter converges with canon, so all recognisable dialogue is, of course, from Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief.

'Silence, Annabeth!' Chiron’s voice made me jump. I’d completely forgotten that he was behind me. He’d clearly been roused from bed (or wherever it was he slept—I’d never really thought to ask). He wore a pastel peach nightshirt and the hairs of his tail were done up in a dozen green curlers. He looked down at the black-haired boy and said, 'He’s still conscious.'  
  
As if to prove Chiron’s point, the boy’s eyes struggled open. I got a glimpse of their startling clear green, like the sparkling waters of the canoe lake on a sunny day, before they fell shut again.   
  
'Hurry, we must bring him inside,' Chiron said, then amended, 'both of them.' The boy went limp like Grover and I knew he’d passed out, too. Chiron knelt with his front legs to scoop him up.   
  
'Food,' Grover moaned faintly. I heaved him into a sitting position. He was surprisingly heavy. I felt a rush of admiration for the half-blood for managing to drag Grover as far as he had. I thought I might have to roll Grover indoors, but Chiron simply draped the boy over one of his arms and lifted Grover easily with the other.   
  
'Thank you,' he said to me, though all I’d done was adjust Grover’s position. I guess it made him easier to get a grip on. Chiron headed for the infirmary, satyr and boy in each arm. I ran on ahead to look for nectar and anything that might help Grover. Next to the cabinet where the Apollo kids kept our main stocks of ambrosia and nectar (the food of the gods was restorative for half-bloods as long as we took it in moderation) was a half-crushed tin can. It looked like someone had tried to toss it into the trash, but missed. I snatched it up.   
  
Grover came to first, thrashing and flailing his arms as though he were under attack. I grabbed him and stuffed the can into his mouth.   
  
'Mmm, iron,' he muttered, then his eyes flew open. 'Percy!' he yelped.  
  
'Grover, it’s me, Annabeth.'  
  
'No—Percy—we crashed, and if the Minotaur got him—'  
  
'Is that the boy who brought you in? He’s over there—hang on, I have the nectar.' I dashed over to the black-haired boy—Percy—and force-fed the nectar into his half-open mouth.  
  
'Gentler, Annabeth, if you please,' Chiron chided.   
  
'Sorry.'  
  
Percy groaned and muttered, 'Farm dudes. Don’t kill me.' His eyes didn’t open, so I guessed he was still out of it.  
  
Chiron sent me to fetch a medic. Only two of the Apollo kids were year-rounders, but fortunately one of them was Will Solace, who was one of the best we had at medicine. He was rather annoyed at being roused in the middle of the night (although a faint glow was already starting to form on the horizon when we rushed back to the Big House) but he followed me without further complaints once I told him Grover and some kid had crash-landed on the front porch.   
  
Grover was sitting up in bed, talking to Chiron, when we got back. Percy was tossing about, possibly in the grip of some nightmare. I wondered if they were about whatever he and Grover had escaped from. 'Bull’s gonna kill me … Mom, no,' he mumbled. And then, on an unrelated tangent, 'Hungry.'  
  
Will gawked at him for a moment, then took charge. He put a hand on Percy’s forehead. 'Not feverish or anything, that’s good. Probably just trauma. He’ll need sustenance to recover. You’ve already given him nectar?'   
  
Chiron and I both nodded.  
  
'Okay, I’ll whip something else up. Don’t give him any more of the stuff until tomorrow.'  
  
'I’d better let Mr D know what’s happened,' Chiron said.   
  
Will’s eyes strayed to Chiron’s tail curlers and his cheeks went slightly pink. He darted out to go make his medicines.  
  
Chiron twisted to look at his hindquarters. 'Ah,' he said, 'I suppose I’d better go make myself presentable first.'  
  
I went to sit by Grover’s bedside. He had a mug in his hand and was alternately sipping at its contents and biting chips off the rim. He looked up at me miserably.   
  
'Hey,' I said, 'you okay?'  
  
'I mucked things up _again_ ,' Grover said.  
  
'No you didn’t. You found your half-blood—Percy, right? And you got him to camp in one piece. They’ll have to give you your searcher’s license now.' I knew Grover’s dream was to be licensed to seek the Great God of the Wild, Pan. Only satyrs who had successfully brought in a half-blood could even apply. Personally, I thought he was long overdue. He’d brought Luke and me in, after all. But they’d considered that mission a failure because Thalia hadn’t survived.   
  
It was a little insulting, if I really thought about it—as though Luke and I didn’t count, because we weren’t kids of Zeus. But it was probably just that he had to complete a mission without losing anyone.   
  
'You don’t understand,' Grover said. 'Percy’s mom, she didn’t make it.'  
  
'Oh.' I glanced at Percy, still muttering in his sleep, and felt a wave of sympathy for him. He wouldn’t be the first half-orphan at camp.   
  
'And Percy did everything,' Grover continued. 'I was completely useless. I barely know what happened after the car flipped. There was a—well, you know, the bull of Minos, and he fought it, and—'  
  
'The _Minotaur_?' I gasped. Grover blanched and glared at me. 'Sorry, I mean, like Pasiphaë’s son? Are you sure?'  
  
'Well, maybe I was seeing things—everything was so fuzzy. I’m pretty sure, though.'  
  
I was impressed. The Minotaur was an ancient beast, incredibly strong and insanely dangerous. It hadn’t reformed since Theseus killed it in the Labyrinth of Crete, thousands of years ago. When I pictured the fight, I imagined an older, stronger hero (my mind helpfully supplied Luke). It was hard to square the image with the exhausted-looking boy in the bed next to Grover.   
  
A small twinge of jealousy prickled at me. Already this young half-blood had got his chance to prove himself against a monster that was so ancient, it was worthy of a quest. I’d waited years for the chance to show I was more than just an excellent fighter in training, and here it had landed neatly into his lap.   
  
I shook it off. If he was the one I’d been waiting for, the one I’d have to team up with, it was a _good_ thing that he was a powerful fighter.  
  
'Hey, Annabeth.' Will had returned with a bowl of yellow goop. 'Are you staying? Only I could do with getting changed. And coffee.'  
  
'Yeah, I’ll be here,' I said without thinking.   
  
'If he opens his eyes, feed him this,' Will said. 'Even if he’s not totally awake. Ambrosia pudding. It’ll help.'  
  
'Okay.'  
  
He left the pudding on the table and hurried out, muttering, 'The _Minotaur_ , wait till the others hear this …'  
  
'I shouldn’t have lost him,' Grover sighed, continuing his lament. 'I _knew_ the Kindly One was after him. He’d already fought it off once—'  
  
'Wait, what?'  
  
Grover wrung his hands. 'A Kindly One! In the school! If Chiron hadn’t been there …'  
  
I shuddered along with him. The last time I’d seen a Kindly One—our euphemism for the three Furies of the Underworld—it had delivered Thalia a fatal blow.  
  
'Chiron got rid of it?'  
  
'No. He helped, but it was Percy. He stabbed it with a sword.'  
  
'Wow.' My appreciation of Percy rose even further. 'Grover, do you think he’s … like Thalia …?'  
  
'He’s _someone_ big. I knew he was really powerful the moment I met him. And the closer we get to the summer solstice, the more monsters seem to be out for his blood.'  
  
I nodded encouragingly, hoping Grover would take the hint and keep talking. Chiron had forbidden _me_ from talking about the subject, but if Grover was telling me everything of his own accord …  
  
'I’m sure Chiron agrees. He was trying to prepare him, I could tell. He was always making sure he knew stuff about the gods in class, and he talked to him before school let out, though we hadn’t—'  
  
'Grover Underwood!' We both jumped as the booming voice rang out throughout the room: a god’s summons.   
  
The rest of Grover’s mug disappeared with a crunch. He gave a bleating, nervous burp. 'It’s Mr D. He’s gonna—he’s gonna want a report.' He got out of bed. 'I’m in so much trouble.'  
  
'Good luck,' I said, trying not to sound annoyed at Mr D for choosing such a bad timing. Or maybe he’d done it on purpose. He _was_ a god, after all.  
  
Grover nodded bleakly and trotted out, leaving me alone in the room with the mysterious half-blood named Percy. Now that I had a chance to look at him properly, I realised where I’d seen him before: in a dream I’d had on Olympus, when I’d seen Grover on his scouting mission. He’d been the skinny, black-haired kid who’d sat in front of Grover and helped him up when some bully had tripped him. The kid who’d been scrutinised several times by his maths teacher—most likely a disguised monster, out for his blood. Possibly the Fury that Grover had talked about.  
  
If he was so powerful, though, why hadn’t the Fury spotted him right away? I stared more intently at Percy, trying to figure him out. He wasn’t bad-looking—I mean, for a guy who looked like he’d recently been run over by a truck. His black hair curled lightly at the ends, framing his smooth, lightly-tanned face. When his lips quirked up, I could see a faint dimple in his left cheek.   
  
He was a pretty noisy sleeper, stirring and mumbling a lot, sometimes breaking into full sentences: 'You’re not a maths teacher,' and 'Whoa, Mrs Dodd’s got _fangs_ , oh shit.' I guessed he was dreaming about the Fury. A few other times he rambled something like, 'didn’t do it,' and 'know something.' I thought about what Grover had said about Chiron preparing him, and felt excited. Perhaps he did know what was going on. Maybe he could help me convince Chiron to issue us a quest.   
  
I quickly ran through the pieces I had managed to put together from eavesdropping on the satyrs: a theft, something big happening at the summer solstice (I realised with a jolt that the day was in two weeks), a speculation about the son of Zeus being able to retrieve the stolen item. It was perfect for a quest.  
  
'You’re a goat,' Percy murmured. He opened his eyes and stared blankly around. 'Not home.' He sounded utterly lost. I remembered Will’s ambrosia pudding and brought it over to him.   
  
'Shh,' I said. 'Here.' I spooned a good chunk of the stuff into his mouth. It smelt like butter frying in a pan.   
  
Percy cleaned off the spoon and swallowed obediently, but a glob of it dribbled down his chin, looking absurdly like a mustard-yellow beard. I fought back the urge to laugh and used the spoon to scrape up the mess. He blinked at me.  
  
To Hades with my promise to Chiron, I decided. I was more convinced than ever that this _was_ the half-blood I’d been waiting for. Everything pointed to it. If we were going to work together, we’d have to share information, and quickly.   
  
'What will happen at the summer solstice?'  
  
Percy blinked at me again. 'What?'  
  
There were footsteps outside. I gave the door a quick, nervous glance. It wasn’t the clip-clop of hooves, though, so I chanced continuing. 'What’s going on? What was stolen?' The footsteps grew louder, definitely approaching the infirmary door. My voice grew urgent. 'We’ve only got a few weeks!'  
  
If I’d thought cutting straight to the chase would help, I was sorely mistaken. Percy continued to look confused. 'I’m sorry, I don’t …'  
  
He was interrupted by a knock on the door. I quickly shoved another spoonful of pudding into his mouth as I called, 'Come in!'  
  
It was Argus, our security officer, a burly guy with a hundred eyes dotted all over his body. He even had one on his tongue, though no one ever saw it because he never opened his mouth, not even to speak. He wagged a finger at me, mimed sleeping with his hands, and then pointed at the door. I got the message: go get some rest. Then he pointed at Percy at himself, to indicate that he would take over watching him.   
  
'Okay,' I said. I looked back at Percy. His head lolled back against the pillows and his eyes were closed. He was out again.   
  
OoOoOoO  
  
Will hadn’t wasted any time in spreading the gossip about the new kid who’d defeated a Minotaur. I napped through breakfast, but when I saw the other campers at lunchtime, it was the topic of every conversation.   
  
'Is it true?'  
  
'A new camper arrived?'  
  
'And he fought the bullman?'  
  
It was amidst all this speculation that Grover found me at my table. Although the satyrs usually sat at Mr D’s table with his sons Castor and Pollux (who were the only actual half-blood members of cabin twelve), it wasn’t forbidden for them to join other tables.   
  
'Hey,' I said. 'How did your meeting go?'  
  
'He’s reserving judgement,' Grover said. 'He wants to consider it and see me again.'  
  
'That’s good, right? It’s not an outright failure.'  
  
Grover buried his head in his arms. 'I don’t want to think about it.'  
  
'Okay.' I patted him comfortingly on the back. 'Want some toast?'  
  
Grover shook his head. 'Are you doing anything this afternoon?' he asked.  
  
I thought about it. It was arrivals day, which meant that campers would be trickling in all afternoon long. We didn’t really have an activities schedule yet, but I’d have oversee the arrivals in my cabin with Anita.   
  
'I’m co-counsellor for Athena,' I told Grover. 'I’ll have stuff to do.'  
  
'Oh,' he said. 'I was going to see if Percy was awake.'  
  
I thought about it. ’Well, I’m sure I can spare half an hour.’   
  
'But I gotta do something first. Will you come with me?' He looked nervous. He reached absently for a fork on the table and chomped on it.   
  
'Hey!' Arthur Doolin complained.   
  
'Sorry!'   
  
'You can take mine,' I told Arthur, pushing my entire plate over. To Grover, I said, 'Let’s go, then.'  
  
We hiked up the hill to Thalia’s pine. The branches on one side of the tree were bent and crooked, like a massive fist had tried to rip them off and then slapped them when it failed. A long skid line ran down the slope of the hill. At the bottom, a battered red car lay in a crumpled heap. Two of the doors had been completely detached. Glass was scattered all around it.   
  
Grover winced. 'The cleaning harpies aren’t gonna like this.'  
  
'Is this from this morning?' I asked. The wreck scene was so incongruous with the bright afternoon sunshine. I tried to picture how it would have looked under dark, threatening skies.   
  
Grover didn’t reply. He picked up a large branch and went over to the boot of the car. With one good hit, the dented cover gave way.   
  
'It’s all gone!' he wailed.   
  
'What is?'  
  
'His stuff … nothing’s left.'  
  
The boot was nothing but a charred mess. If there’d been anything there before, it was completely incinerated now.  
  
'I wanted to bring him whatever was left, but there’s nothing!' Grover moaned.  
  
'Not quite,' I said. 'Look.' I pointed to a large, pointed horn lying several feet away. I would have thought it was a rock, except it was striped unnaturally in black and white. The grass around it was flecked with rusty spots and the tip of the horn had specks of reddish-brown.   
  
'The Minotaur’s horn!' Grover gasped. He immediately clasped a hand over his mouth and looked around nervously as though the beast might suddenly charge out of the bushed.  
  
'Percy did that?' I said, impressed.  
  
'Yeah.' Grover picked it up and wiped the blood off the tip. 'I remember now. It got his mom, and it was standing over me, and he started yelling at it and then he jumped on it and broke off the horn and stabbed him with it.' He held the Minotaur horn straight out and we both looked reverently at it for a while.   
  
'It’s a spoil of war,' I said finally. 'He should have it.'  
  
Grover nodded. He pulled off his t-shirt and wrapped it carefully around the horn.  
  
There was nothing else to retrieve. We jogged back over to the Big House.   
  
Argus was still in the infirmary, keeping watch. Half his eyes were closed, so only the left side of his body blinked blue eyes at us. I guess he could sleep one side at a time (which made him the best candidate for head of security, if you think about it). He shook his head at us, like we weren’t supposed to be there.  
  
'Did he wake up at all?' Grover asked.  
  
Argus shook his head again. I peered over his shoulder at Percy, who looked much more peaceful. He was no longer thrashing or muttering, just completely still and dead to the world. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards in a goofy, lopsided half-smile, and a thin line of drool ran from the corner of his mouth across his cheek. I stifled a giggle. He definitely looked nothing like the hero Grover described.  
  
Argus waved his hands in a shooing motion, then mimed sleeping. We got the message: run along and let him rest.  
  
At any rate, arrivals day kept me too busy to check back in on Percy. The official first day of the summer session was always pretty chaotic, what with summer campers arriving in an almost constant stream. Although the largest group came in on the airport shuttle in the evening (driven by the cleaning harpies, since Argus, who usually did it, was on guard duty), the ones who lived near enough generally had their parents drive them here, or they caught a cab over. By mid-afternoon, the central compound was a hive of activity. Large rucksacks were scattered all around the hearth. The goddess who occasionally tended the fire looked at them disapprovingly, then disappeared. The Ares cabin was constantly shouting, and little explosions kept going off as they set off the landmines they’d planted in the floors. Hephaestus cabin had a whole lot of squeaking and groaning going on (I didn’t even know what they had in there), and cabin ten—Aphrodite—was in a stand-off because someone had accidentally (or not, I couldn’t really tell) broken Drew Tanaka’s mirror over winter term and she was out for blood. Throughout all this, the Stoll brothers were running around nicking stuff out of campers’ bags that had been left unattended in the square. At one point, Michael Yew came sprinting out of Apollo cabin with an arrow aimed at Connor Stoll.   
  
It was just your typical settling-in day.  
  
I helped Anita to check off everyone’s name against a list once they got here, which meant hanging about the cabin all day. I worked on my lesson plan and schedule in the mean time, since I hadn’t done anything yesterday besides knife-throwing. Malcolm was totally excited when he realised I was making my lectures an official thing, and he sat with me for a couple of hours, offering suggestions. Between us, we came up with a good list of stories to last throughout the summer.  
  
Dinner on the first night was a free-for-all. Since everyone was turning up at different times, usually starving from hours on the road, Chiron didn’t impose any formalities for the first night. We ate whenever we were hungry. As long as we stayed at our assigned tables and made our offerings to the gods, he and Mr D pretty much left us to our own devices. Neither of them were even at the dining pavilion. I didn’t know where Mr D was, but I’d seen Chiron earlier, dragging a few crates out to the woods. No doubt he was stocking the playing field for capture the flag. I’d taken the chance to quickly ask him about a funeral pyre for Ruthann, and he’d given me permission to organise it for my cabin.   
  
Celia Little brought her notepad to dinner and we helped her work on a design for Ruthann’s shroud: light grey with pearl beads worked intricately into the fabric. She promised to start on it at Arts and Crafts tomorrow. We’d burn it on Thursday night.   
  
'Do you think she’d like it?' Celia said wistfully.  
  
'I’m sure she would,' Anita said. 'She loved simple colours. She always said the beauty was in the weaving itself.'  
  
'What would you want your shroud to look like, if you could design it yourself?' Elias Wiseman asked.   
  
'That’s so morbid,' Celia said.   
  
'I’d think it’s good planning,' Elias said. 'I mean, shrouds aren’t only for funerals. You get one if you go on a quest.'  
  
'That’s practically like courting death,' Anita said darkly. 'As if the monsters aren’t bad enough when you live out there, without going to hunt for them.'  
  
'Yeah, but if you win, you get bragging rights for, like, forever. Say, is it true what everyone’s saying, that there’s a kid who fought off the bull-man to get here?'  
  
The stories surrounding the new half-blood continued to grow. By breakfast the next morning, I’d heard at least ten different versions: he’d called down lightning to strike the Minotaur; he’d run it over with a car (most of the campers had seen the smashed up vehicle before the harpies had the chance to clear it away); he’d wrestled it with his bare hands.   
  
There was so much interest in the Minotaur that I revised my lesson plan to do the story of Theseus and the Labyrinth first. My first lecture was meant to be Tuesday morning; I wanted to start strong.   
  
On wonder-boy himself, everyone had an opinion. Clarisse claimed not to believe a word of it, though anyone besides her half-siblings could see that she was just jealous. If there was anyone else at camp who wanted to prove her abilities as much as I did, it was probably Clarisse. Will Solace told everyone he was cute, which made all the Aphrodite girls want to crowd the Big House for a look at him. By the third morning, he appeared on the front porch in a reclining chair, still fast asleep, with a glass of ambrosia next to him for when he finally came to. Will insisted to Chiron that it was important for his recovery to be in fresh air, but I had my doubts about the reasoning.   
  
Throughout this furore, Percy slept on. It finally died down after a bunch of campers had run up to peek at him, running away giggling as Argus shooed them off. The Aphrodite girls were disappointed that he was 'just a scrawny twelve-year-old' and not some amazing hunk; Clarisse—who adamantly refused to participate in such a girly endeavour—scoffed and said, 'I told you so.'  
  
Personally, I decided I’d reserve judgement until I finally had the chance to speak with him again. He’d sleep-talked a lot on the few other occasions I’d gone to help Will look after him, but none of it had been lucid. I was still holding out hope that he was the son of Zeus and he’d get a quest that I could join him on. Even if he was a skinny boy no older than me who drooled in his sleep.   
  
Percy finally joined the world of the conscious at mid-morning, two days after his arrival, when I was delivering my revised lesson plan to Chiron. He and Mr D were setting up for pinochle on the back porch, but I didn’t know who they intended to have as their remaining players, as none of the satyrs appeared to be nearby. I hovered by the porch rail after greeting Mr D and handing my edited plan to Chiron to look over, unsure if they meant to ask me to stay. I wasn’t exactly jumping for the opportunity. Mr D wasn’t exactly fond of demigods; even his own sons tended to steer clear of him outside of meal times.   
  
A sharp intake of breath caught all of our attention. I saw Grover coming round from the front porch. Behind him was Percy, who was staring at the expanse of Camp Half-Blood, his eyes wide and round. He gaped at the horizon for a moment, during which Mr D surveyed him with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. Grover murmured something in Percy’s ear and he turned to us, smiling nervously, then said, inexplicably, 'Mr Brunner!'  
  
I had no idea what he was talking about, but Chiron seemed pleased. 'Ah good, Percy,' he said. 'Now we have four for pinochle.' He gestured to one of the chairs next to Mr D, which Percy took. Grover and I both took a step towards the last chair, then stopped and exchanged a look. We didn’t know who they intended as their fourth player.   
  
Chiron shot Mr D a look.  
  
'Oh, I suppose I must say it,' Mr D sighed in a long-suffering tone. 'Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now don’t expect me to be glad to see you.'  
  
'Uh, thanks,' Percy said. He leaned nervously away from Mr D, evidently sensing our camp director’s animosity.   
  
'Annabeth?' Chiron said. I stepped up. 'Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase. This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy.' I thought this was stretching the truth quite a bit, seeing as all I’d done was feed him some pudding and dropped in on him while he was recovering, but I tried to look gracious.   
  
Percy looked stronger now that he was no longer battered from a fight or unconscious in a bed, but he still didn’t seem terribly impressive. He was sitting now, but I could tell he was within an inch of my height, maybe even a couple of centimetres shorter. His clothes were still rumpled and his hair stuck up in the back. He looked between Chiron and Mr D with an expression of complete befuddlement. In his hands, he clutched the large black-and-white horn that Grover and I had gone to fetch, which would have been more inspiring if he hadn’t been holding it the way a five-year-old would hang on to his binky.   
  
'Annabeth, my dear,' Chiron said, 'why don’t you go check on Percy’s bunk? We’ll be putting him in cabin eleven for now.'  
  
'Sure, Chiron,' I said automatically. Percy looked at me then. I didn’t remember his eyes being quite that bright green when I’d seen them two nights ago, but I supposed it was a trick of the light. His mouth quirked upwards into a slightly lopsided smile, not unlike Luke’s except Percy’s was a goofy, kind of cute grin that made you want to return it. His single dimple in the left cheek winked at me. I looked down, hoping I wasn’t blushing. My mind helpfully supplied the last image I’d seen of him smiling in his sleep, with that little trickle running out of the corner of his mouth.   
  
'You drool when you sleep,' I blurted out. I could’ve smacked myself. Of all the idiotic things to say! Mortified, I ran off before I could embarrass myself any further.   
  
I could feel Percy Jackson’s gaze following me all the way down the lawn.


	6. I Am Appointed Tour Guide To A Minotaur-Slayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth shows Percy around Camp Half-Blood and tries to size him up.

Cabin eleven was empty except for Timothy Greaser, who was already nursing a twisted ankle from the morning’s activities. No two campers from different cabins were allowed alone inside a cabin if they were of different genders, so I sat down on the front steps and opened a book to read while I waited. It was Dad’s latest guilt gift: a Greek text on Athenian architecture. I pored over categories of column structures until Luke showed up fifteen minutes later, leading the enormous Hermes group—all his half-siblings plus all the unclaimed campers, whose godly parentage was yet unknown. Practically every camper did a stint in cabin eleven when we first arrived: Hermes was a jack-of-all-trades kind of god and travel was one of his specialities. Supposedly that was why cabin eleven was the most welcoming. Personally, I thought it was just Luke. He had a way with newcomers, making them feel like part of the family.   
  
He’d done it for me even before we’d come to camp.  
  
The Hermes group must have just come from sword-fighting class, because they all looked tousled and sweaty, and some of them bore cuts and scrapes from where they’d got careless. Luke’s sword was swinging from his belt.   
  
'Oh hey, Annabeth,' he said. 'What are you doing here?'  
  
I jumped to my feet. 'Chiron sent me,' I said. 'He’s putting the new camper here.'  
  
'The Minotaur guy?' Connor Stoll said. 'Sweet!'  
  
His brother nudged him. 'Dude, you’re not supposed to use the name.'  
  
'Hey, if the new kid killed it, it’s not like it can reform in a day and come after me.'  
  
Luke got a funny look in his eyes, like he was mentally calculating how many campers they had now. I think some of the other campers were thinking of it, too, because they had sour looks on their faces. Evidently the rumours that had popped up around Percy Jackson simply couldn’t outweigh the fact that they were already overcrowded in there. Then Luke’s expression cleared and he clapped his hands together.   
  
'Well, you heard the girl. We’ve got a new guy coming, let’s clear a space.' He opened the door for his grumbling cabin mates.   
  
'I still say Solace was exaggerating,' Jason Bingley muttered as he passed. 'Like, did you see the kid? Scrawny dude like him against a bull-man? Puh-lease.'  
  
'Is he going to be here soon?' Luke asked me.  
  
'Um, Chiron roped him into Pinochle when I left,' I said. 'Grover was with them. I guess they’ll have to give him the orientation video, too, but yeah, soon, I guess.'  
  
Luke shrugged and started to go in. 'I’d invite you in,' he called back, 'but it’s a little crowded, as you probably know.'  
  
'Er, no problem. I’ll just wait out here.'  
  
I thought Grover would be the one to bring Percy, but Chiron himself was leading him over, coming from the direction of the beach, as though they’d gone on a tour of the place first. I couldn’t remember the last time Chiron had personally given a tour. I frowned as they approached. First a house call, now a tour—in spite of what Chiron had said to me, he sure was treating this kid like he was something special.   
  
'Annabeth,' Chiron said, 'I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy from here?'  
  
'Yes, sir,' I said. Percy looked nervously at me. I tried not to look embarrassed that the last thing I’d said to him had been a stupid remarked.  
  
Chiron turned to Percy. 'Cabin eleven,' he said, pointing. 'Make yourself at home.'  
  
I knocked on the door. Someone kicked it open and we peered in. Luke’s campers were still cleaning up after their sword-fighting lesson. I couldn’t see where they’d prepared a spot for Percy, it was so crowded. The regulars even had to stash their bags on their bunks, as they had so many undetermined kids with bedrolls on the floor.   
  
'It’s Chiron!' someone hissed, and everybody leapt to their feet quickly to bow. Chiron nodded back at them.  
  
'Well, then, good luck, Percy.' He clapped Percy on the shoulder. 'I’ll see you at dinner.' He nodded again to all of us and galloped off in the direction of the archery range.  
  
The whole cabin turned their eyes on Percy, who hung in the doorway, as though unsure of whether he wanted to enter. He was still clutching the Minotaur’s horn like it was a lifeline. Maia Reyes noticed it and pointed, whispering to Timothy Greaser. There was a long, awkward silence as cabin eleven stared at Percy, sizing him up, while Percy just stood there dumbly. I could see many campers’ faces fall as they realised he seemed more dorky kid than suave hero.   
  
'Well?' I said, when nobody moved. I gave Percy a small nudge. 'Go on.'  
  
He took a step forward and tripped, nearly dropping the horn. He caught the doorframe to steady himself. Half the cabin was silent, staring at him as though undignified entrance. The other half either snickered or grinned like they’d been handed a treat. Most of those were Luke’s real siblings—the practical jokers, who probably thought Percy was easy prank fodder.   
  
His eyes darted desperately around as though hoping someone would take over for him. I sighed and introduced him.  
  
'Regular or undetermined?' Maia Reyes asked. She sounded a little wistful; her own parental status was still up in the air.   
  
Percy gawked at her as though she was speaking Chinese. I frowned. Hadn’t he seen the orientation video? It should have explained everything.   
  
'Undetermined,' I answered for him, which was the truth as far as I knew. If Percy knew any better, he didn’t correct me, not even when the cabin groaned.   
  
Luke stepped in front of the others. 'Now, now, campers, that’s what we’re here for,' he said, smiling warmly. 'Welcome, Percy.'   
  
See, that was what I meant—Hermes cabin might be the de facto unwanted kids’ hangout, but it was Luke who made it their haven. He parted the campers and showed Percy the section of floor they’d cleared for him. It was tiny, barely enough for a sleeping bag, but it wasn’t like any of the others had much more room. Years ago, I’d entertained a brief period of wishing I could be in cabin eleven, with Luke, but once I actually saw it, I was pretty happy with my place in cabin six.   
  
Plus, I was glad enough _now_ not to be Luke’s sibling.   
  
'This is Luke,' I told Percy. He looked at me and his expression seemed to say, _Are you kidding me_ , which I thought pretty insulting. I narrowed my eyes at him. 'He’s your counsellor for now.'  
  
'For now?'  
  
'You’re undetermined.' Luke didn’t seem to take any offence. His voice was still warm and easy-going. He explained about Hermes’s patronage and acceptance for newcomers.   
  
Percy looked around, as though he didn’t think much of this. 'How long will I be here?'  
  
'Good question,' Luke said, although it wasn’t. 'Until you’re determined.'  
  
'How long will that take?'  
  
The other campers were rolling their eyes and laughing now, like they couldn’t believe how dumb the kid was. All their visions of him as a great Minotaur-slayer were clearly melting away. Luke was still smiling patiently, but I knew that expression: _the kid’s slow, but what can you do?_ If I left him here, the explanations would probably go on forever.   
  
'Come on,' I said, stepping in. Might as well carry on with the tour, like Chiron had asked. 'I’ll show you the volleyball court.'  
  
'I’ve already seen it.'  
  
How thick-headed was this kid? You’d think he would be glad for the excuse to step away from an awkward situation.   
  
I grabbed his wrist. 'Come _on_.' I dragged him out of the cabin then let go of him, putting my hands on my hips. 'Jackson—' I almost called him Percy, since I’d been referring to him in my head for two days by the only handle I’d known, but remembered his last name just in time, 'you have to do better than that.'  
  
'What?' he said defensively.  
  
Olympus help me. Minotaur or not, the kid was hopeless. 'I can’t believe I thought you were the one,' I blurted out.   
  
He flared up immediately, and if our following conversation was anything to go by, I knew it was time to write off another idiot new half-blood. He started by discounting his encounter with the Minotaur with the most flippant attitude, then displaying a complete ignorance about monsters in general. I had to explain everything to him, from their origins and life force, to why we avoided their names. And then he still didn’t seem to get what we were. What _he_ was.  
  
I felt like crying. Here I’d been primed to expect a great hero, trained and quest-ready, already half-trained and well-prepared by Chiron, but I was dealing with a half-blood who was slower than most of the new kids. It was indeed like Chiron had promised: this kid needed years of training and preparation.  
  
'Face it, you’re half-blood,' I said, after laying out all the signs—troubled school life, ADHD, dyslexia—for him (which he should have known if he’d just paid attention to the orientation video).  
  
I could tell from his face that he was finally starting to accept it. Before he could argue or respond in any way, though, Clarisse came striding over from cabin five, flanked by three of her half-sisters.   
  
'Well,' she said nastily, 'a newbie!'  
  
'Clarisse,' I said. 'Why don’t you … go polish your spear or something?'  
  
'Sure, Miss Princess,' she said, rolling her eyes. 'So I can run you through with it Friday night.'  
  
It would have been more threatening if I hadn’t evaded her every time we clashed in training. The children of Ares would never get that all the brawn in the world was useless without a decent battle strategy. ' _Errete es korakas_ ,' I snapped. 'You don’t stand a chance.'  
  
'We’ll pulverise you,' Clarisse said. She looked at Percy, sizing him up. 'Who’s this little runt?'  
  
I made the introductions. Percy looked dumbfounded, but I was starting to think that was just his natural expression. 'Like … the war god?'  
  
'You got a problem with that?'  
  
Most kids would have backed off with Clarisse sneering at them. To my surprise, Percy shot back, 'No. It explains the bad smell.’  
  
All three of Clarisse’s sisters sucked in their breath. I was torn between amusement at Percy’s wisecrack, admiration at his boldness, and exasperation at his stupidity. Taunting Clarisse was like poking a sleeping dragon in the eye. You needed a ton of guts to do it, but if you had half a brain, you wouldn’t even consider it. I had the sudden feeling that this wouldn’t be the first time I’d find myself caught between conflicting emotions.  
  
Sure enough, Clarisse advanced threateningly on Percy. 'Stay out of it, wise girl,' she growled when I tried to step in—it was debatable whether letting Clarisse rough Percy up was part of what Chiron intended as part of a tour. I decided it was probably better to let Percy deal with it himself. If he was going to be a camper, he needed to learn not to poke at sleeping dragons, so to speak.  
  
I think a part of me also still hoped he might prove that I _shouldn’t_ write him off just yet.   
  
To his credit, Percy didn’t back down. He passed me his Minotaur horn and raised his fists. He didn’t stand a chance against Clarisse, though. She had him in a headlock quicker than you could say _Zeus_ , and dragged him over to the latrines. It was clear that Percy’s first fighting lesson would involve the cardinal rule: _never let the bigger guy get a grip on you_.  
  
'Like he’s "Big Three" material,' Clarisse sneered. She shot me a derisive glance. 'Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid-looking.' I put my hands to my face. I knew what was coming; she’d dunked plenty of kids' heads in the toilet bowls, anyone foolish enough to cross her.   
  
But then there was a low rumble that _might_ have been thunder. Every pipe in the toilet trembled, and water erupted from the toilet like it was a fountain. Clarisse dropped Percy, who landed on his butt. The toilet fountain splashed straight at her, forming a jet that blasted her into one of the showers. Her sisters started towards Percy, but the other toilets came to his rescue, hosing them down. The showers came alive and joined the party with so much force that Clarisse and her sisters started spinning about, buffeted by the jets of water.  
  
I didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. Instead, I just stood there in shock as the water crashed back down to the ground, drenching me in the process. (Fortunately, I closed my mouth in time.) The toilets and showers shut off, but the bathroom was completely flooded—except for a half-metre radius around Percy. He got shakily to his feet.   
  
'How … how did you …' My mind was whirling. Certain gods could pass on supernatural abilities to their children, but this was beyond anything any of the campers could do. He probably wasn’t Hermes or Athena, and exploding toilets didn’t seem like Aphrodite or Apollo’s style. Ares was always a possibility, though I hoped not. The only person I knew—had known—with powers to rival these was Thalia. She’d been able to call down lightning on occasion. A flame of hope surged up over my earlier disappointment.  
  
Percy shrugged. 'I don’t know.'  
  
Outside, a group of campers—including several of Percy’s new cabin mates—had gathered to gawk at Clarisse lying in the mud. Luke was among them, studying Percy with the same, calculating look he’d worn when I’d told him Percy would be in cabin eleven. I guess everyone was re-assessing their initial impression of him, given this new display.   
  
Still no godly claim appeared around him. I remembered what Chiron had said about the gods being unlikely to make a claim too soon.   
  
Clarisse tried to threaten Percy again, but he matched her taunts easily. She tried to charge him again, but her sisters, displaying a rare moment of wisdom, dragged her back to cabin five. She flailed and kicked all the way, demanding to be let back at him.   
  
A sudden idea sparked in my head.   
  
I might have no idea who Percy Jackson _was_ , but for now, he was a Hermes camper. And it just so happened that Luke and I were planning an alliance for capture the flag. A battle strategy started to fall into place: Ares’s fatal flaw was that they thought with their muscles, and could never stand coming off worse in a fight. Percy had already shown Clarisse up; she was going to be out for blood now, first chance she got. I knew exactly how I could capitalise on that. The rest of it was just details, like where to set the trap.   
  
'What?' Percy said, and I realised I was staring at him. 'What are you thinking?'  
  
There were so many answers to that question. I went with what I had last considered. 'I’m thinking,' I told him, 'that I want you on my team for capture the flag.'  
  
'What’s capture the flag?'  
  
'You’ll find out. Come on, I’m supposed to finish your tour.'  
  
We didn’t chat much as I showed him around. He told me Chiron had already taken him around the fields and the armoury, so I took him by the eastern side of camp. I watched him carefully at each station, but he didn’t seem to show any particular affinity for any of them. No clues there. He’d gone back to being a wide-eyed dork who knew nothing at all about the gods and was fascinated by the peculiarities of camp. I still didn’t know what to make of him. It was incredibly annoying. I needed more information.   
  
I had to go around three o’clock—I was signed up for Luke’s afternoon sword-training session, and I figured I ought to change out of my still-dripping clothes first—so I pointed out the trail back to the cabins and gave Percy quick instructions about dinner.  
  
'Annabeth,' he said uncertainly. I prepared to repeat myself, but instead he continued, 'I’m sorry about the toilets.'  
  
I didn’t know what I was meant to say to that. 'Uh, whatever.'  
  
And then he said the most ridiculous thing ever: 'It wasn’t my fault.'  
  
I raised my eyebrows. I could understand that he hadn’t a clue _how_ he’d got the toilets to attack Clarisse—a lot of half-bloods with minor powers said learning to control them was an awkward business—but there as no way he could believe that it had nothing to do with him. He looked at me helplessly, as though hoping _I_ had the answers. Well, I didn’t. I couldn’t unravel the mystery of Percy Jackson. He might be so many things: a son of Zeus, the half-blood with a special destiny, the one I’d been waiting for all along. All those maybes, unfortunately amongst a few certainties that were definite marks against him: he was dull-witted, smart-mouthed, and completely irreverent. He was like a prophecy: incredibly vague and impossible to make sense of.  
  
That gave me an idea. 'You need to talk to the Oracle.'  
  
'Who?'  
  
'Not who—what. The Oracle.' I thought about explaining, then decided it was probably better not to. I didn’t want to give him nightmares. 'I’ll ask Chiron.' Surely once Chiron heard about Percy’s stunt with the toilets, he’d see the sense in it. The Oracle would know, wouldn’t she, if Percy was the One? I remembered too that I hadn’t told him about her words to me the night Percy had shown up. His arrival had driven it clean out of my head.   
  
i looked over at Percy. His attention had drifted already—not unusual for half-bloods, as most of us are pretty ADHD—and he was leaning over the pier rail, waving at a group of naiads at the bottom of the canoe lake. I couldn’t tell if he’d even heard what I’d just said.   
  
I felt an irrational annoyance at the naiads, though it wasn’t really their fault. Percy was so impossible. 'Don’t encourage them,' I told him. 'Naiads are terrible flirts.'  
  
'Naiads,' he said. Suddenly, his face crumpled into abject sadness. 'That’s it. I want to go home now.'  
  
That look—it tugged mercilessly at my heart, dulling my irritation. 'Don’t you get it, Percy?' I said gently. 'You _are_ home. This is the only safe place on earth for kids like us.'  
  
'You mean, mentally disturbed kids?'  
  
I should have been offended, but he still looked like he’d been punched in the gut. Even Clarisse’s attempt to stuff his head down a toilet hadn’t affected him this bad.  
  
'I mean not human,' I said. 'Not totally human, anyway. Half-human.'  
  
'Half-human and half-what?'  
  
I fought the urge to grind my teeth. Hadn’t we already been over this? I thought of Luke and how patient he would be. I opened my mouth to explain everything again, then stopped myself. The look on Percy’s face wasn’t really one of cluelessness, but fear. He kind of knew the answer. If I kept telling him straight out, it would probably just give him the chance to deny it.   
  
'I think you know,' I said instead.   
  
I was right. Percy shivered, and then said, 'God. Half-god.'  
  
I guess I didn’t really know what it was like to have that truth come crashing down on you. I remembered some other campers, who had been flabbergasted at the news, but my dad had always been straight with me about my parentage—I’d learned later that it was probably why the monsters had started after me early. The more you know, the easier for them to scent you out. By the time I was seven, I’d seen plenty.   
  
Sure, Percy had faced a Minotaur, and maybe a Fury, but those were only two instances. I’d been making him out to be another Thalia because of how he’d slayed the Minotaur and made it safely to camp with Grover, but it was a totally different situation. Thalia, Luke, and I had known what we were. We’d had each other. Percy had never met another demigod. And I got the feeling his mom must have kept him pretty sheltered. I would have felt jealous, except I remembered Grover saying that the Minotaur had got his mom.   
  
I should have been more understanding from the start. One more mistake by the counsellor-in-training. I felt bad. So I stayed and answered the rest of his questions. I didn’t even get too ticked off when he assumed my dad was the god, like goddesses didn’t exist or something.   
  
I drew the line when he asked why I’d been at camp so long, though. I didn’t talk about my family with anyone, not even Luke (who knew enough not to ask). I wasn’t about to start sharing details about my absent father and the stepfamily who preferred me gone. Some things were private.  
  
'So,' he said at last, 'I could just walk out of here right now if I wanted to?'  
  
Had he forgotten how he’d been chased here already? I wanted to remind him about the Minotaur. 'It would be suicide, but you could,' I said diplomatically. 'With Mr D’s or Chiron’s permission. But they wouldn’t give permission until the end of the summer session unless …' There _was_ one exception to the rule, and it was one I’d been hoping to get.   
  
'Unless?'  
  
'You were granted a quest. But that hardly ever happens. The last time …' That was Luke’s quest, the one he’d failed. The two companions who’d gone with him hadn’t made it back. Sometimes I thought that was partly why Chiron insisted that the prophecy meant I had to wait.  
  
Percy changed the subject. 'Back in the sick room, when you were feeding me that stuff—'  
  
'Ambrosia,' I supplied.  
  
'Yeah. You asked me something about the summer solstice.'  
  
I looked at him sharply. 'So you _do_ know something?'  
  
'Well … no,' he admitted. 'Back at my old school, I overheard Grover and Chiron talking about it. Grover mentioned the summer solstice. He said something like we didn’t have much time, because of the deadline. What did that mean?'  
  
The bubble of anticipation rising inside me deflated. But for the first time, I felt some kinship with him. 'I wish I knew,' I said. 'Chiron and the satyrs, they know, but they won’t tell me. Something is wrong in Olympus, something pretty major.' I told him about our winter solstice field trip, and the weird weather after, and what I’d managed to glean since then about a theft and the insinuation that something bad would happen at the summer solstice if things weren’t set right by then. I left out the stuff about the prophecy. I didn’t want to scare him, and anyway, if it _was_ meant for him, he’d find out when he met the Oracle. 'I thought we could work together,' I finished. 'I thought you might know something.'  
  
I hoped he might share something, like a clue to his parentage—I was still holding out for Zeus—or maybe another detail he already knew, something to add to my arsenal of arguments to take to Chiron that the gods needed a quest, but Percy just shook his head mutely.   
  
I growled in frustration. For a moment things had seemed so promising. Over to the east, the tip of Thalia’s tree was visible along the horizon, green-gold in the afternoon sun. It reminded me, as always, that I had yet to prove myself worthy of her sacrifice.  
  
'I’ve got to get a quest,' I sighed.  
  
The naiads in the lake waved up at me, smiling tauntingly as if to say, _silly little girl, you know what Chiron will say—you’re too young, you’re not ready_. 'I’m not to young,' I muttered mutinously. 'If they would just tell me the problem, I could solve it.'  
  
A soft breeze wafted across from the direction of the amphitheatre, carrying with it the smell of barbecued meat. Percy’s stomach gave a low rumble and he sniffed the air hopefully. I realised he probably hadn’t eaten all day.   
  
'Go ahead,' I told him. 'I’ll catch you later.'  
  
I didn’t watch him run off. I stared at the pier rail for a bit, trying to piece something together from the little Percy had said, but came up completely blank. After a minute, I remembered that I needed to get to sword training, and I was now really late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, all recognisable dialogue comes from _Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief_.


	7. I Win The Game, But Not A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth pulls off a winning strategy at capture the flag, and the mystery of Percy's parentage is solved.

The day after we burned Ruthann's shroud, we geared up for war.  
  
Capture the flag was a point of pride for me. I'd led my cabin as the winning team for three summers—winter session didn't count; Ares only held the laurels then because there weren't enough year-rounders from Athena to launch a proper offence—and I wasn't about to lose now, not when I was co-counsellor and especially not when it felt like a quest was almost within my reach.   
  
Luke made good on his promise of an alliance, and I managed to get Lee Fletcher and the Apollo archers on my team by promising to cover their clean-up duties in the arts and craft centre for a week. I met with them before dinner at the sword-fighting arena to explain the strategy that had come to me when watching Percy wash Clarisse with toilet water.  
  
'Ares is pretty predictable,' I said, spreading out a map of the forest. 'They prefer an offence. Only thing is, they're strong enough with it that they tend to break through most defenses.'  
  
'That electric spear Clarisse's got,' Lee said with a wince. 'Got me good last time I was guarding.'  
  
'Yeah, but we can neutralise most of them with a decoy.' I circled a point on the map. 'Here's where we plant the flag. It has a good vantage point for this side of the creek. Lee, we'll put your two best archers on flag guard. They'll have an easy time picking off attackers from that direction.'  
  
'I'll do it, with Darius,' Lee said automatically. 'He's our best shot.' He studied the map. 'What about the south side? It's got better cover—I'd come up that way if I were attacking.'  
  
'We booby-trap this whole area.' I pointed to the small stretch of forest between the south creek and our intended flag position. 'That's your specialty, Luke. Do you think your guys can set things up in time?'  
  
'With Travis and Connor on it, sure,' Luke said. 'And a couple others on monster patrol. Why the focus on that area, though? There's any number of spots the other team could try to sneak past, and only so many of us who can successfully fend off Clarisse. Less, when you take away those of us who'll need to attack their flag.'  
  
'She'll come through here,' I said confidently.  
  
'How do you know?' Lee asked.  
  
'Because we'll have a decoy. Here's where we plant the bait.' I circled the south creek crossing. 'We'll lure half the Ares fighters—including Clarisse—over here.'  
  
'Bait?'  
  
'Percy Jackson.'  
  
Luke and Lee exchanged a look.  
  
'You're right,' Luke said. 'She's been threatening to get him back for what he did with the toilets, but she hasn't had the chance yet.' He shook his head admiringly. 'If she sees him out there on his own … it's cold, but it's effective. You're brilliant, Annabeth.'  
  
I blushed. 'Thanks.'  
  
'Will he go for it, though?' Lee said.  
  
'Leave that to me,' Luke said.  
  
'As for the flag …'  
  
'I got that, too,' he said. 'I can lead the flag team.'  
  
'I've got the invisibility cap,' I protested.   
  
'Which means you'll be the best at taking prisoners, since they won't see you coming. Plus, someone will have to cover Percy, someone who can't be seen, since we're trying to make it appear like he's easy prey.'  
  
If it had been anyone else, I'd have retorted, probably with a _who's the strategist, Athena or Hermes?_ But I didn't want to argue with Luke. He did have a point—I was setting Percy up quite cavalierly; it was fair that I keep an eye on him. Still, the chance to take the laurels … well, if I wasn't the one to capture the flag, I'd want it to be Luke.  
  
'Okay,' I said.  
  
'Great,' Luke said. 'We got this.'  
  
OoOoO  
  
Celia made our flag, a long banner in Athena's colours, with our owl mascot flying proudly above an olive tree—the symbol of Athens. We carried it into the pavilion together after dinner on Friday, along with Malcolm, who was bursting with pride at the honour. I'd chosen him as flag-bearer since it was his first game, and also because he'd only get to be a foot soldier during the actual battle.  
  
The Ares flag was nowhere as beautiful as ours. It was, as usual, blood-red, with a badly-painted spear and an attempt at the Erymanthian boar. Beneath it, Clarisse eyed me challengingly. I just smiled back. I was absolutely confident in the strategy I'd laid out. Lee and Luke had both agreed it was the best plan.  
  
Chiron called for attention. 'Heroes! You know the rules. The creek is the boundary line. The entire forest is fair game. All magic items are allowed. The banner must be prominently displayed, and have no more than two guards. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged. No killing or maiming is allowed. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. Arm yourselves!'  
  
The usual armaments appeared on the dining tables. I searched for Luke across the pavilion. He was standing next to Percy. He saw me looking and nodded. He turned to Percy, helping him to gear up. All according to plan.  
  
'All right, guys,' I said to my table, 'we've got a plan to neutralise Ares. Elias, you'll be with Luke on the flag team. Arthurs, take Roger and Anita and run an offence along the northern edge. Celia, you, Rupert and Isaac do the same on the south side. Malcolm, you're on border patrol north of the creek. Holly and Carter, you guys know where that is—take him with you.'  
  
They all nodded. 'Annabeth's got another great plan,' Anita said, grinning at me. 'We'll rule this. For Athena!'  
  
'For Athena!' we all cheered.  
  
'All yours, Annabeth,' Anita said.  
  
I raised my sword. 'Blue team, forward!' I shouted. Both the Hermes and Apollo tables rose to join us, cheering, and I led our march into the south woods.  
  
Percy sidled up to me, clanking noisily. It was a good thing he was _meant_ to be visible; he'd have been a disaster on stealth.  
  
'Hey,' he said nonchalantly, as though we were just having a pleasant dinner conversation. I fought the urge to roll my eyes.   
  
'So what's the plan?' he asked, when I didn't reply. 'Got any magic items you can loan me?'  
  
I wondered if Luke had told him about my invisibility cap, sitting deep in my pocket. I wasn't sure how much Luke had revealed about the strategy, or if he'd kept Percy completely in the dark so he didn't freak out and refuse. I figured it was probably fair to at least give him some tips to defend himself when Clarisse came charging.   
  
'Just watch Clarisse's spear. You don't want that thing touching you. Otherwise …' I studied him carefully. 'Don't worry, we'll take the banner from Ares. Has Luke given you your job?'  
  
'Border patrol, whatever that means.' So Luke hadn't shared the details.  
  
'It's easy. Stand by the creek, keep the reds away,' I explained. 'Leave the rest to me. Athena always has a plan.'  
  
I didn't bother explaining more. He might be the key to our strategy, but he didn't have to do much more than stay in position. I'd be watching out for him, after all. He fell back after that and trailed the group from behind.  
  
Once we got to the south creek crossing, the Stoll brothers and a small group of their Hermes siblings split off into the woods with crafty expressions on their faces. I didn't know what they had up their sleeves, but I trusted them to know their stuff when it came to traps. Luke and his flag team set off on their way. I made sure Percy was in position, then climbed a tree for a good vantage point and put on my cap to wait, invisible, for the game to begin.  
  
It wasn't long after Chiron's horn signalled the start of combat that I spotted the first red team scout trying to scout the creek, a few hundred metres north. I grabbed a vine and swung down, landing lightly on my feet. It was Castor Gable, one of Mr D's sons. Attacking outright wasn't a good idea, since Castor could make the vines turn on me, so I just followed him, rustling the trees occasionally to make it seem like someone was darting through, guiding him straight towards the section of the woods that the Stoll brothers had booby-trapped. Whoops and howls rang out from other parts of the woods as fighters clashed. I hoped Luke had broken through the red team's defences. Clarisse didn't seem to have made it across yet.  
  
'Come on, Travis, don't let me down now,' I muttered.  
  
A massive silver net fell from the trees. Castor noticed it and tried to dart away, but he was a second too late. It descended over him, trapping him in its woven mess. He raised his arms and vines shot up around him, but they were useless. He cursed ferociously. I giggled and ran off; he wasn't getting out of that for a while.  
  
I felt a strange tingling sensation, as though something was vibrating at my waist. I clamped my hand to the sheath I had on my belt, where I kept my bronze knife. Then something growled near me, low and sinister. I drew my sword, holding it at the ready.  
  
There was a flash of black, a large shadow passing, then the growling stopped, replaced by an almost inviting purr. A grey leopard leapt down from the trees, heading towards the creek, where I'd stationed Percy. One of the animals Chiron had brought in for the fun, no doubt. I had to be careful with this one, though. Leopards were Mr D's special creatures, and he wouldn't be too happy if I killed one.  
  
'Here, kitty,' I hissed. It turned and sniffed the air. I rooted in my pockets and came up with a golden drachma. It would have to do. I flung it hard in the direction of Castor. The leopard sprung after it. I heard a strangled yelp, followed by the sound of vines springing from the ground, and I figured Castor had the situation well in hand.   
  
I had more pressing problems. A triumphant yell was coming from the creek, accompanied by the sounds of clanging armour and splashing water. I heard Clarisse's battle cry: 'Cream the punk!' Cursing, I sheathed my sword and ran for it.  
  
Just as I'd predicted, Clarisse had brought nearly half her cabin after Percy. I got there just as Clarisse slammed her spear straight into his chest—he jerked at the contact and I winced, knowing that the point was electric—and Martin Nemean opened a deep sword gash in his arm. Percy staggered back.  
  
'No maiming,' he gasped, looking like he couldn't quite believe what had just happened.  
  
Martin laughed and said something. He pushed Percy into the creek. I was about to sneak in to help—I figured I could start with Tabitha Baxtor and Alex Copley, who were practically doubled over laughing, and try to take them out first—but to my surprise, Percy got to his feet and faced the three Ares campers coming at him. He picked up his sword and swung it hard. Martin Nemean's helmet flew twenty feet. The older boy fell to his knees.   
  
Tabitha and Alex were no longer laughing. They charged up with Clarisse and the last guy, Baxtor Nivens, but Percy didn't miss a beat. He managed to simultaneously smash Tabitha's face with his shield and practically decapitate Baxtor. Alex halted in his tracks. Clarisse, of course, wasn't about to retreat. Her spear was primed, and I had just enough time to think about how much worse the shock would be in water, when Percy clamped his shield and sword over it and twisted.  
  
The electric spear that all the campers dreaded snapped into two.  
  
Clarisse screamed in fury, letting loose a string of curses. Percy reversed his sword and hit her in the nose. I had to sidestep quickly to avoid her as she tumbled out of the creek, howling madly.  
  
'Yeah!' someone screamed from further upstream. The Ares flag streamed out as it raced towards the creek. I pumped my fist in the air. Luke had done it! And a lot faster than I expected, too. I grinned as Clarisse staggered to her feet and threw Percy a venomous look.  
  
'A trick! It was a trick!' She dragged her teammates in Luke's direction, but they would never make it in time. I smiled in satisfaction. One more capture the flag conquered. Luke and Hermes cabin would get the laurels, but that was okay. I knew it was _my_ strategy that had taken Ares out of the running.   
  
My strategy, and some surprising fighting skill from Percy Jackson.  
  
I jumped into the creek next to Percy, looking at him with renewed appreciation. 'Not bad, hero,' I said. 'Where the heck did you learn to fight like that?'  
  
He stared blankly at a spot three feet to my left. I realised I was still wearing my Yankees cap and whipped it off quickly. His eyes narrowed when my head appeared.   
  
'You set me up! You put me here because you knew Clarisse would come after me, while you sent Luke around the flank. You had it all figured out.'  
  
I shrugged. It was strategy. He'd worked it out faster than I thought he would, but he was also taking it a lot more personally than he should. 'I told you. Athena always, _always_ has a plan.'  
  
'A plan to get me pulverised!'  
  
'I came as fast as I could,' I told him. 'I was about to jump in, but …' He'd been handling himself just fine. Most campers would have been proud of themselves, not angry. 'You didn't need help.' I remembered how he'd fought back after they'd drawn first blood, as though the wound had set off something in him. I glanced at his arm, where Martin Nemean had struck him. To my surprise, it was no longer bloody. It looked as though he'd scraped a tree branch on the way in, rather than gotten sliced by a sword.  
  
'How did you do that?' I asked in amazement.  
  
'Sword cut, what do you think?'  
  
'No, it _was_ a sword cut. Look at it.' I pointed. It was still healing as we spoke, the thin scar that it had turned into fading away as we watched. Even nectar and ambrosia didn't work that quickly.  
  
'I—I don't get it,' Percy stammered.  
  
I thought about how Martin had stabbed him, then pushed him into the creek. The way the water had rushed out of the toilets and tackled Clarisse and her friends on his first day. I'd thought it might be a sign of Zeus's power, like Thalia had been able to call on sometimes. It hadn't really occurred to me until now that he might have gotten his powers from a different mighty god.  
  
We were still standing in the creek, water running below our knees. Water. It was the commonality between all three of Percy's incredible displays. If it _was_ the water, then it had to be …  
  
'Step out of the water, Percy,' I said, testing my theory.  
  
'What?'  
  
'Just do it.'  
  
He did so tentatively. As soon as his feet left the surface of the creek, he staggered and nearly fell back in. I leapt up and caught him. He leaned against me, astonishingly heavy for such a skinny kid. It was pretty convincing proof. And that _really_ sucked.  
  
'Oh, Styx, this is _not_ good.' I glared at him, though it wasn't exactly his fault. 'I didn't want … I assumed it would be Zeus …' Like all things about Percy Jackson, this new information brought me another wave of mixed feelings. If he was the son of Poseidon, he still fit the bill for the prophecy, which was a good thing in theory. In practice, though … Poseidon and Athena had one of the biggest rivalries in the godly kingdoms. One that Athena won a lot, which didn't tend to endear her to the sea god or his children. I already didn't think I'd made a favourable impression on Percy, which didn't bode well for a future partnership.  
  
My team was cheering and screaming Luke's name, but Percy and I just stared at each other until a loud howl broke the air.  
  
I thought at first it was one of the leftover monsters from the game, but then I heard Chiron issue a sharp, urgent command. He spoke in Greek, too, which he never did unless something serious was going on. The cheering stopped. I took up a battle stance, immediately alert.  
  
It appeared out of nowhere, as if it had risen straight from the shadow of the rocks, which it probably _had_. It bared its razor-sharp teeth and growled menacingly at us. Its eyes glowed blood red.   
  
My heart nearly stopped. The last time I had seen a hellhound, a whole army of them had been stampeding after us, led by the Fury who had dealt Thalia the final blow …  
  
The hellhound locked its eyes on Percy and I realised that it was him it was after. Just like before, the creature of the Underworld wanted my friend, not me. But this time, I wasn't helpless.  
  
'Percy, run!' I commanded, pointing my sword at it.  
  
The hellhound leaped. I swung at it, but only managed to slice off an inch of fur. It didn't even slow as it barrelled into Percy, claws outstretched. My insides twisted. It was like being transported back five years, as I watched the army of hellhounds and Furies descend on Thalia, sinking their claws into her …  
  
Only then, we weren't surrounded by a band of archers. At Chiron's command, every Apollo camper let loose a barrel of arrows, one after the other. They sank into the hellhound's hide and it collapsed, loosening its hold on Percy.  
  
I dropped my sword and ran forward, swearing. Everyone gathered round, stunned and silent. Percy sat up shakily. His armour was badly clawed, and I could see the blood seeping out from the sides.   
  
'What in Hades was that?' I heard someone murmur.  
  
'That's a hellhound,' I said. My voice was shaking. I tried to steady it. 'From the Fields of Punishment.' Only it shouldn't have been able to breach the camp boundaries. 'They don't … they're not supposed to …'  
  
'Someone summoned it,' Chiron said grimly. 'Someone inside the camp.'  
  
We looked nervously at each other. I saw Luke standing over the hellhound's carcass. He was still clutching the now-Hermes banner, but his knuckles were turning white from his grip. He looked like he was going to be sick.  
  
'It's all Percy's fault! Percy summoned it!' Clarisse accused, which was possibly the dumbest thing I'd ever heard her say. How stupid would anyone have to be to summon a demon to kill them? Chiron told her to be quiet.  
  
The hellhound melted into the shadows, its essence returning to Tartarus the way all monsters did when killed. Percy brought his hand away from his chest. It came away stained red.  
  
'You're wounded,' I said. The armour was hiding just how badly, but I thought it had to be a lot worse than anything Clarisse and her mates had done. Would the same trick work? 'Quick, Percy, get in the water.'  
  
'I'm okay,' he said, though he was obviously not. Chiron took a step towards him and rummaged in his supply bag, looking for ambrosia.  
  
'No you're not,' I snapped. 'Chiron, watch this.'  
  
Percy didn't broker any further arguments. He shuffled into the creek. Immediately, he began to shine. It wasn't just the power of the water, healing the injuries he'd sustained from the hellhound. I immediately recognised it as something more, the beginnings of a powerful sign from the gods. The shimmering claim arrived, bathing him in a light green glow.  
  
Percy spread his arms in a gesture of helplessness. He looked at me awkwardly, not seeming to notice the claim that was shining brightly over his head, casting a green halo of light above his wet hair.   
  
'Percy, um …' I pointed at the glowing trident: incontrovertible proof of who Percy Jackson really was. 'Your father.' I sighed. 'This is _really_ not good.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual drill—canon dialogue in this chapter is taken from _Percy Jackson and Lightning Thief_.


	8. I Finally Get To Join A Quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth's dearest wish finally comes true, but it doesn't quite play out the way she wanted it to.

'I've got a question,' Percy said.   
  
We were at my morning Greek lesson, a few days after his claiming, sitting on a rock by the canoe lake. His legs dangled over the water, skimming the surface from time to time. I'm not sure he even noticed he was doing it. His book lay open to a page on the Underworld—I'd left him to read the chapter after giving him a brief lecture on Hades's realm.  
  
I motioned for him to go ahead, though I was mildly annoyed because he'd interrupted my thoughts. I'd been in the middle of working out my latest theory about how the summer solstice might fit with the Great Prophecy, and the distraction made it fly straight out of my head.   
  
'So this care-bears dude ... he's like that thing that attacked me, right?'  
  
I had to grab the book to see what he was referring to. ' _Cerberus_ ,' I corrected, feeling, for the umpteenth time, torn between exasperation at his irreverence and a childish urge to giggle at the silly name. 'He guards the gates of the Underworld.'  
  
'Like prison gates. Right, like that's not bizarre at all.' His finger traced a circle on the rock. He looked up at me. 'Does anyone ever escape, then? Or is it, like, game over—once you cross the river, you're in for life.'  
  
'Um,' I said, looking away. His green eyes were suddenly intent and focused, and when he stared at me like that, I lost my train of thought. I realised the casual phrasing of his question masked a burning desire for the answer. I remembered Grover saying the Minotaur had got his mother. 'Heroes _have_ gone there and back. Not many—the Underworld's not exactly the kind of place you want to be sent on a quest—but some have reached it and returned to tell the tale. Remember Heracles? He even managed to borrow Cerberus from Hades.'  
  
'Cuz he wanted a three-headed devil dog for a pet so much.'  
  
'No, haven't you been listening? It was for a quest! It was his assigned task.'  
  
'Yeah, okay,' Percy said. 'So what happened then? With _Cerberus_ gone? Did all the prisoners like bust out or something?'  
  
'It's not like that. Cerberus is just one line of defence to keep the dead in their assigned places—you know, like the Fields of Punishment, or Asphodel.'  
  
'You're kidding. They named their prison "Asshole Dell"?'  
  
I fought to keep from stamping my foot. Dealing with Percy was like being on a roller coaster ride: one minute I'd be feeling sorry for the kid, the next he made me want to tear my hair out. One second he was serious, like he was actually working his brains under that unruly mop of hair, then the next, so infuriatingly dense, like there was nothing in there but—but seaweed.  
  
Stupid son of Poseidon.  
  
'As- _pho_ -del. It's where the souls go who've just been mediocre. Not fantastic, but not bad enough to earn eternal damnation.'  
  
'Right. You said the hellhound came from the Fields of Punishment.'  
  
'Yeah.' I was surprised he remembered.  
  
He looked queasy, and I suppose I couldn't blame him. Thinking of the beast's claws sinking into his chest made me shiver, too.  
  
'And the Fu—er, the Friendly Ones?'  
  
'Kindly Ones,' I corrected. 'They're Hades's special lieuntenants.'  
  
'Don't tell me the bull-man was, too?'  
  
'Well, no, not particularly. But monsters all come out of Tartarus—that's the place even deeper below Hades—eventually, so in a way, you could say they're all from the Underworld.'  
  
'Great,' he muttered, clenching his fist. He slammed it down on the rock, and the water in the lake shot up like a fountain. It created a huge wave when it crashed down again. Several canoes on the far shore overturned. Their campers yelled angrily at us.  
  
'Sorry!' he called back. He looked at me sheepishly. 'It's still _weird_ , being able to do that.'  
  
I didn't really know how to respond to that. I'd never suddenly developed crazy supernatural powers.  
  
'Never mind,' he said, when I didn't say anything. He picked up the book and continued stumbling through the ancient Greek.   
  
OoOoO  
  
That night, I had a dream. I stood at the entrance to a golden temple. It felt like the kind of place that ought to be filled with quiet reverence, a peaceful sanctuary for worship, but the silence was torn by a loud squabbling, as though creatures in the ceiling were having a fight worthy of a pair of toddlers.   
  
A woman with long raven-black hair knelt at the altar. When I entered, she looked at me and I saw that it was my mother—Athena. I dropped to my knees immediately.   
  
'Rise, child.' I got up. Athena was standing now, smiling down at me. The noise overhead continued and she rolled her eyes at it.   
  
'It's enough to give me a headache,' she said. 'Three days now they've been at each other's throats. I can't get any peace, not even here.'  
  
'Who …' But I had the feeling I already knew. 'Lord Zeus? And …'  
  
'My uncle is a fool,' Athena said contemptuously. 'He should have known claiming the child would annoy Father. And Father's being silly, too. That far-fetched accusation …'  
  
The arguing stopped momentarily. Thunder rattled above us. The ceiling flashed threateningly. Then the squabbling started up again.  
  
'He's mad that Poseidon had a kid,' I said.  
  
'Well, that, too, though really, talk about the sword calling the dagger sharp. No, it goes beyond that, my dear. It's been going on for months. This is just the latest twist.' She turned her piercing grey eyes on me. 'You must uncover the truth. I told you before you would need to see clearly, to look past your emotions. Sometimes it is necessary for us to move past our rivalries, for the greater good. The quest depends on it.'  
  
'The quest?'  
  
She smiled mysteriously. A faraway look came into her eyes.   
  
'If you're talking about Percy … well, he's okay, I guess. He's growing on me, a bit.' I mean, he was annoying, but he was also kind of cute, for a goofy kid.  
  
'Just don't get _too_ close. My children were not meant to fraternise with his.' She bent and kissed my forehead. 'Make me proud, my daughter. I must go. Look away.'  
  
A bright light seemed to fill her from within. She grew as she shone and I averted my eyes quickly. I didn't know if a goddess's true form had the same effect in a dream, but I didn't want to risk being reduced to ashes to find out. A searing flash imprinted on the inside of my eyelids, and even with my fingers shielding my eyes, I swore I could see my mother smiling at me through the light. An echo reverberated around me: ' _The quest depends on it … make me proud._ ' Then it all stopped—no more quarrelling voices, just pure, reverent silence.  
  
When I woke up the next morning, I went straight to Chiron.   
  
OoOoO  
  
For the first time since I'd started asking for a quest, Chiron didn't turn me down. I told him about the previous night's dream, and also the Oracle's words the night Percy had arrived. Chiron listened, and then he steepled his fingers in front of his face and said heavily, 'Yes, I do believe you are right, Annabeth. I had hoped … but it seems there is no fighting it. The hellhound was just the beginning.'  
  
'So Percy _is_ the one.'  
  
'Perhaps. Tell me, Annabeth, have you figured out the quest?'  
  
'My mom—Athena said that … Zeus and Poseidon are fighting … and they need help to resolve it. Someone stole something … _di immortales_ , it was something of Zeus's, wasn't it? His …'  
  
'His master bolt,' Chiron confirmed.  
  
I swore again. The situation was more dire than I had imagined. 'Who would dare … surely not Poseidon?'  
  
'While Poseidon has not always been guileless in past attempts to usurp Zeus's power, I think it highly unlikely this time. I believe both brothers were sincere in their desire to maintain peace after the last great war. However, we must not forget that there is a third brother who may not have been quite as sincere.'  
  
'You're talking about Lord Hades, aren't you?'  
  
'Unfortunately, yes.'  
  
'So if he stole it—or sent someone to—and he's been sending monsters after Percy, he must think that Percy's destined to retrieve it.'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'Does Percy know yet?'  
  
'He will, soon. Mr D has, ah, confirmed much of what you've deduced, and we will need to break the news to him. But as you've come to me … my dear, do you understand what this quest would entail?'  
  
'We'd have to go to the Underworld.' I had to fight to keep my voice steady. Like I'd told Percy, it was the one place you _didn't_ want to have to go for a quest. But I wasn't going to back down now. If I didn't take this chance, who knew if another opportunity would ever come around? 'We'd have to face Hades.'  
  
'This is a dangerous quest,' Chiron agreed. 'Any of Percy's companions—assuming he takes on the quest, of course—would only incur the wrath of Hades as well. And any other … well, I hope that will not be the case, although …' He frowned, and changed tack suddenly. 'Remind me again, would you, of what happened during your winter solstice field trip?'  
  
I was confused, but I tried to recall it for him. 'Well, everything seemed fine … the gods had their council, Hera didn't seemed to like us much but nobody seemed like they were actually angry about anything specific. And then Ariadne took our tour, and there was that concert by Hypnos that put us all to sleep …'  
  
' _The world in endless sleep …_ ' Chiron murmured. 'No, not quite, but another sign that it is beginning.'  
  
I was suddenly reminded of a dream I'd had many months ago, shortly after the winter solsttice, about a voice at the bottom of a cliff, telling me _it had begun_. I got the sudden feeling that Chiron was fitting together the pieces of something much bigger than a quest for Zeus's master bolt. The thing he'd just said about endless sleep … I had a feeling that I ought to know it.   
  
'Sir, is that from the Great Prophecy?' I asked. 'One of the lines I missed?'  
  
Chiron nodded. 'It is part of it.'  
  
'Will you tell me those lines now?'  
  
He studied me carefully. I tried to stand a bit straighter, look like I was ready. Finally, he said, 'No, I do not think it will help much, now. If you return from your quest … ask me again then, Annabeth, and perhaps the time will be ripe for the knowledge to come to you.'  
  
I understood. It was like a test of some sort. Succeed in the quest, and I would prove myself capable of handling more.  
  
'For now, though, you must put the prophecy out of your mind. And I must ask that you not relate it to Percy. It will only distract from your current goal, which is of utmost importance. The master bolt is too powerful a weapon to be left in the wrong hands. Remember, this was the bolt that defeated the King of the Titans himself.'  
  
'Kronos,' I said. 'The father of the gods.'  
  
'Yes. My own father, too, incidentally, although I don't like to advertise that fact. The gods defeated him by standing together in unity—a powerful force. But when rifts appear … well, I can only hope that some of the things I sense are wrong.'  
  
'Sir?'  
  
Chiron shook his head. 'It's probably nothing.' But he still looked unsettled. 'All right, my dear. Assuming you are still willing to take on the quest—'  
  
'I am,' I said.   
  
'—then all we need is our stalwart hero.'  
  
OoOoO  
  
Chiron sent me to go wait in his office while he proposed the quest to Percy. I sat at his deck, idly spinning the wheels on his chair while I studied the row of pictures he kept on the wall. I'd seen them before; they were a hall of fame of sorts, a photo montage of the great heroes he'd trained. Some of them had the grainy quality of photographs from the early eighties; others were older than that, black-and-whites that were possibly from the era of daguerrotypes. The oldest were painted portraits rather than actual photos: I recognised Heracles and Achilles among them. My pulse raced as I tried to imagine myself among them. Could I ever live up to their deeds?  
  
My eye fell on a tall, athletic-looking blonde, who stood proudly alongside a dark-haired hero. Their hands were interlaced. A signature was scrawled so messily over the feet of the guy that I couldn't read it, but the girl had signed hers in proud, bold letters: _Atalanta '13_.  
  
I grinned. The guy standing hand-in-hand with her must be her husband, Hippomenes, though I couldn't tell if they'd been married at the point the picture was painted. For a moment, I fancied myself as Atalanta, a brave bold heroine who ran like the wind. My mind supplied Luke beside me, smiling warmly, but that image didn't last. Hippomenes, with his dark hair and roguish grin, reminded me more of Percy, and that made the fantasy kind of awkward.  
  
I heard the unmistakeable tread of footsteps plodding up the stairs to the attic, and my heart sped up. That had to be Percy, off to consult the Oracle, which meant he must have accepted the quest. I felt too jittery to sit still any more. I went back out to the porch.  
  
Grover was sitting in one of the chairs, nervously tapping one hoof against the table leg. He shuffled the pinochle cards absently about the table, but didn't seem to have eaten any yet.  
  
'Hey, Grover,' I said.  
  
'Annabeth, you should not be here,' Chiron said. 'Percy has only just gone to the Oracle. We have not told him everything yet.'  
  
'It can't hurt for her to know what's going on,' Grover said. 'I mean, she's going to be a part of this, too, right?'  
  
Chiron pursed his lips. 'All right,' he said. 'But do not reveal yourself until we have finished telling him everything.'  
  
'Sure,' I said, reaching for my Yankees cap. I smiled at Grover. 'Thanks.'  
  
'Uh huh,' Grover said. 'Don't thank me too soon. I may still get you killed.'  
  
'Did you volunteer for the quest, too, then?'  
  
'I have to,' he said glumly. 'I won't get my searcher's license if I don't complete a quest with Percy.'  
  
'Oh.'  
  
He must have realised how that sounded because he said quickly, 'Not that I wouldn't follow him, anyway. He's—he's my friend.'  
  
I felt a little annoyed at this. It was disconcerting, the way Grover had attached to Percy so firmly. I reminded myself that the two of them had been through quite a bit already. Then my annoyance was followed by a slight pang of guilt. I would have felt better if Grover had volunteered just so he could follow his career path. His declaration of loyalty made me feel a bit ashamed of my own reasons for volunteering. I found myself wondering whether Percy thought of _me_ as a friend. And when it came to that, was he _my_ friend?  
  
We hadn't known each other for very long, and I still couldn't decide whether I liked him. He could be really frustrating, but in a way that made me almost want to laugh. I thought that beneath all of his goofiness, he was probably quite a decent person.  
  
Of course, there was the inalienable fact that our parents didn't get along, that probably threw a wrench into the whole friendship business. _Don't get too close_ , my mother had said. Still, she's also said to put rivalries aside.  
  
I decided not to waste too much time thinking about it. I would accompany him and I would help him every step of the way. That was all that mattered, right?  
  
As Chiron had instructed, I put on my cap and stood aside when Percy returned, looking pale and disturbed from his consultation with the Oracle. I didn't blame him. My own encounters with her hadn't exactly been steadying experiences.  
  
'She said I would go west and face a god who had turned,' he told Chiron and Grover. 'I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned.'  
  
That sounded good to me. A prediction for success, with no restriction on who his companions had to be.  
  
'Anything else?' Chiron said suspiciously.  
  
'No,' Percy said after a short pause. 'That's about it.' He didn't quite meet Chiron or Grover's eyes.   
  
Chiron accepted this, and guided him through the logic of working out who had stolen Zeus's bolt. I had to give Percy credit—he reached the same conclusions as I had pretty quickly. He was probably smarter than his frequent stupid comments made him seem. And he didn't freak out when he learned that we were head for the Underworld in Los Angeles.  
  
Well, neither had I, but I'd been gearing myself up for a quest for years. Still, my respect for him went up another notch.  
  
Of course, being Percy, he then undid it by suggesting that he—son of the sea god—get on a plane.  
  
Grover, who had practically consumed the whole card table by then, freaked out. 'No, Percy, what are you thinking?!'  
  
Chiron, patient as ever, explained pretty succinctly: a god did not trespass lightly on another god's domain. That went tenfold if you were a demigod. Particularly if you were one who already had a god pissed off at you. As if to back Chiron up, lightning and thunder helpfully shook the sky outside.   
  
'Okay, so I'll travel overland.'  
  
'That's right,' Chiron confirmed, and moved on to the final logistics. 'Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other has already volunteered, if you will accept her help.'  
  
I guessed that was my cue to appear. Before I could come forward, though, Percy said, 'Gee, who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a quest like this?'  
  
I'd meant to be nice about offering my help, say something light-hearted like _guess we're on the same team again_ , but his sarcastic tone, like he already knew I'd offered and he didn't think much of it, irritated me.  
  
He didn't want me.  
  
I whipped off my cap and stared him right in the eye. I was gratified to see him look surprised and a little abashed. It helped, too, that he was just the littlest bit shorter than me. Intimidation didn't work well when you had to look up at someone.  
  
'I've been waiting a long time for a quest, Seaweed Brain,' I told him coldly, determined not to let him see how much his comment stung. 'Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up.'  
  
His initial shock melted away and he lifted his chin as though rising to a challenge. 'If you do say so yourself. I suppose you have a plan, Wise Girl?'  
  
Coming from him, it felt like more of an insult than when Clarisse said it. Like it was something personal.  
  
'Do you want my help or not?' This wasn't going the way I'd intended at _all_. I felt furious at him. This had to be why children of Athena weren't supposed to work with children of Poseidon. The natural rivalry was just too strong.   
  
Percy didn't answer directly. 'A trio, that'll work,' he told Chiron.  
  
I felt completely wrongfooted. And it hurt more than I was willing to admit, to have my help so grudgingly accepted. But it was all I was going to get: a reluctant alliance with the world's most annoying boy.  
  
Focus, Annabeth, I told myself. Whatever it was, the important thing was that I finally _did_ have a quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the drill: canon dialogue is straight from canon.


	9. Three Grandmas In Ugly Hats Throw Us Off Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth, Percy, and Grover set off on their quest ... and immediately they run into trouble.

The first thing I did was look for Luke, to tell him the good news, that I finally had a quest. We were leaving in a few hours, and I didn't want to go without saying goodbye. He was as good as my family, after all. I guess in a way, I wanted his blessing.   
  
Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found. He wasn't in any of his usual haunts—not cabin eleven, nor the sword-fighting arena, or even the arts and crafts cabin, where most of the campers were hiding from an unexpected downpour. (The rain had started right after Percy, Grover and I left the Big House, which was not a reassuring sign from the gods.) I scoured the entire camp, even the beach where we set off Fourth of July fireworks, getting thoroughly drenched in the process, but Luke didn't turn up. None of his cabinmates had seen him all morning.  
  
Finally, I had to give up. I only had a little time left to get my stuff together.  
  
Word of our quest had spread by then. My half-siblings all bombarded me with well-wishes and monster-fighting tips. Malcolm told me to kick some monster butt. Anita made me promise to come back alive—so I could take over officially as cabin counsellor, no doubt. Holly started to cry, as though she didn't think I'd make it, but she gave me a big hug anyway.  
  
It was a good thing I'd spent years thinking about how I'd tackle a quest, because after all that, I had only five minutes before I was due to meet Percy and Grover. I changed out of my wet clothes and pulled on a fresh Camp Half-Blood t-shirt and clean jeans. I stuffed a toothbrush and a spare set of clothes into a satchel and threw in my celestial bronze knife and Yankees cap. I would repack along the way. As an afterthought, I grabbed a book—the _Iliad_ would have been helpful, but it contained too many references to monsters, and that wasn't a good idea if we didn't want to draw too much mythological attention to ourselves. I picked Dad's guilt gift instead: the Greek book on architecture.  
  
The rain finally let up when Percy, Grover and I headed up Half-Blood Hill. I rearranged my things as we walked, pulling out my cap and dagger, shoving in the book. My knife went up my sleeve, its sheath strapped to my left arm so I could have easy access to it. It would be our best defence against monsters. Percy looked askance at it when I pulled it out, but I gave him a look just daring him to comment. He'd appreciate having a celestial bronze weapon later, once we encountered our first monster.   
  
Besides, it had been a gift from Luke. I wasn't about to leave it behind.  
  
Instead, Percy looked at my cap. 'Do they really sell those things at the Yankees stadium?'  
  
'It was a gift from my mom,' I told him shortly. 'For my twelfth birthday.'  
  
He didn't seem to have anything that would help us in battle. Chiron had apparently gotten him sorted out for money and first-aid—he split the cash, notes and drachmas alike, and nectar and ambrosia with me—but I didn't see any weapons. Grover's backpack was packed to the brim, but I knew well enough that it was probably all satyr-friendly snacks. His weapon of choice were the reed pipes—which he was still getting the hang of.  
  
I figured I was going to be responsible for most of the fighting.  
  
Chiron was waiting for us at the top of Half-Blood Hill (he'd chosen to wheel up in his chair for some reason), along with Argus, who held a set of car keys. I guessed he was our ride to the bus station.   
  
I touched the bark of Thalia's tree while Chiron introduced Percy to Argus. 'Wish me luck,' I told her. 'I'm going to make everything you did for me worth it.'  
  
She didn't respond, of course, but I liked to think that some bit of her that still lingered in the tree heard me, and approved.  
  
Luke came running up the hill as we were about to set off, waving and yelling to catch our attention. He stopped when he reached us and bent over to catch his breath.  
  
'Glad I caught you,' he gasped out. My face felt warm as his smile passed over me. I was glad, too, that I wouldn't have to leave without saying goodbye after all.  
  
But then he turned his attention to Percy, wishing him good luck and even loaning him his flying shoes—the very ones Hermes had gifted him with on his quest … which he _never_ spoke of. I tried to push down my jealousy. This was officially Percy's quest. Luke was just being generous.   
  
And then Luke enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug and whispered in my ear, 'Come back safe, okay?', and I forgot completely about everything he'd said or given to Percy. He hadn't hugged me like that since I was ten.  
  
I nodded, but I couldn't speak over the lump in my throat. Up my sleeve, my bronze knife seemed to tingle with energy. It was a while before I could focus on anything again.  
  
'You're hyperventilating,' Percy teased.  
  
'Am not.' He was _so_ annoying.  
  
'You let him capture the flag instead of you, didn't you?'  
  
I wanted to smack him. His eyes twinkled playfully at me and I felt my face get even hotter than it had when Luke had hugged me. 'Oh, why do I go anywhere with you?' I huffed. With a toss of my head, I marched off towards our waiting SUV.  
  
Grover came flying down a moment later—literally; he was wearing Luke's flying shoes, which didn't seem too happy to be carrying a satyr—but Percy was up at the top for at least a good five more minutes, conferring with Chiron. I waited moodily in the car while Grover hopped around, trying to get control of the shoes. He finally gave up and got in the car next to me, panting.  
  
'You're all sweaty, Grover,' I complained.  
  
'Sorry,' he muttered. 'Those things are harder to use than I thought.'  
  
'Percy gave them to _you_?' I tried not to sound too disappointed.  
  
'Yeah, he can't really use them, allergic to flying and all that.'  
  
I nodded glumly and put my hand up my sleeve, feeling the solid hilt of my dagger. It was glowing faintly with warmth, as if it knew I needed the reassurance. I already had it to remind me of Luke. I didn't need another gift.  
  
Percy finally slid into the car. Argus slammed the doors shut and got into the driver's seat.  
  
We were off.  
  
OoOoO  
  
Most demigods are ADHD, which isn't great for a car ride. Everything we passed caught my eye: the massive billboards along the highway, the cars that sped past in the fast lane, their windshield wipers racing back and forth, the pedestrians on the sidewalks huddling under umbrellas, cursing at the splashes thrown up by the vehicles. Percy had maybe one of the strongest cases of hyperactivity that I'd seen: the guy just couldn't sit still. He was practically bouncing on the car seat as he looked out of the windows.  
  
Grover didn't say anything. He'd already broken into his snack pack, which might have been because Percy was keeping up a running count of how far we'd made it without encountering any monsters. After the tenth mile of this, I had enough.  
  
'It's bad luck to talk that way, Seaweed Brain,' I told him.  
  
He laid up on the monsters then, but unfortunately he didn't shut up. He was in his most frustratingly stupid mood, the kind where he had a wisecrack to everything. Normally I could never decide whether to laugh or shoot him down; now, with my nerves already keyed up in anticipation of monsters (thanks to him), I only wanted to strangle him.  
  
I crossed my arms huffily and stared out of the window. I hated how he turned serious subjects into a joke. Even more, I hated how much I was tempted to laugh, too. We were supposed to be on a _serious_ mission here.  
  
We finally reached Greyhound Station, which was one of those modern steel buildings with large electric billboards at each corner. It had round columns supporting its base, which were incongruous with the straight lines and rigid angles of its cage-like upper storey. The dark green paint on the building might have looked solid and impressive in the sunshine, but the combination of overcast skies and dirty rain dripping off its sides gave it a dingy, washed-out appearance. I would have designed something that looked good whatever the weather.  
  
Argus dropped us off under a billboard that had an advertisement for Blue Bottle Coffee. _The best in America_ , the sign promised in schizophrenic lighting. He tooted the horn of the car once in farewell, then he was gone, lost in the swarming Manhattan traffic.  
  
We were on our own. The enormity of it was strangely overwhelming. I felt like this was the moment—like a stage performance I'd been preparing for all my life, where I just had to do or die. I'd wanted to do the show, but it also scared me to death to walk out on stage.  
  
I wasn't about to let the others see that, though. 'Come on,' I said. 'Let's get tickets.'  
  
The next bus to Los Angeles was in an hour. We'd be travelling through the night. While we queued, I kept my eye out for monsters, but everyone seemed to be pretty normal, from the bored-looking ticket-seller at the counter to the men and women in business suits with their eyes glued to their smartphones. Even the group of boys who were tossing a football around a bus station for some reason seemed to be regular teens, if a bit rowdy. Anyway, they quickly disappeared onto a bus to New Jersey.  
  
Grover pulled out an apple from his backpack and twirled it idly in his hands. I was about the reach for my book to pass the time when Percy cried, 'Toss it here, G-man. Hacky sack!'  
  
Grover threw the apple over. Percy bounced it on his knee, once, twice, then twisted and whapped it with his ankle. The apple flew at my face. 'Catch, Annabeth!'  
  
I snatched it out of the air. 'What on Olympus are you doing?'  
  
'Well, we've got a while to wait, so … why not? You know how to play, right?'  
  
I had no idea what he was talking about.  
  
'Here, I'll show you.' He pulled me to my feet. 'Just keep it in the air—no hands, but anything else is fair game.' He demonstrated, bouncing the apple off his knee again, then using his ankle, then changing leg.  
  
Grover gamely gave it a go and managed two kicks before he fell over, unsteady on the fake feet he used to hide his hooves.   
  
'You're up, Annabeth,' Percy said.   
  
The apple flew at me again. This time I copied Percy, raising my knee to it. It bounced off back towards Percy, and he bounced it back to me.  
  
'That's it,' he said encouragingly, 'you got it.'  
  
I grinned and thwacked the apple hard with my elbow. It shot straight into Percy's stomach.  
  
'Oof,' he said, and laughed. 'Nice one. Again?'  
  
I didn't want to admit it, but I liked Percy's idea of a good past-time. Bouncing off the apple between us was more fun than I would've thought. It helped that I took to it naturally. Years of fight-training, especially as a knife specialist, made me quick and flexible. Percy looked gratifyingly impressed when I pulled off seven consecutive bounces. After a while, Grover managed to get in a couple of good ones, too. Unfortunately, while we were trying to best our record—twenty bounces before the apple dropped—he got a little over-enthusiastic and the apple disappeared with a snap of his jaws.  
  
I met Percy's eyes and it was good, suddenly, to just be sitting here, tossing the apple and laughing at Grover's stricken expression. My previous quest stage-fright had dissipated.   
  
Then the bus pulled in. 'Well,' Percy said, 'this is us. L.A., here we come.'  
  
When we got in line, I had the sudden feeling that someone was watching us, though as far as I could tell, none of the people around were paying us any attention. It made me all nervous and fidgety. It wasn't until we'd taken our seats and I looked out the window that I saw them: a trio of little old ladies approaching the bus bay. Their faces were hidden by garish hats and they were stooped over their walking sticks, but their gait was clearly _not_ the slow hobble of elderly people. As they came closer, I saw that the fingers that curled over the crook of their sticks were gnarled and curved … like claws.   
  
My blood ran cold. Monsters. I was sure of it. _Please don't get here in time._  
  
One of them, in an orange hat, sniffed the air and beckoned to her sisters. They joined the queue for our bus. Not just any monsters, I realised. The three Furies—eternal tormentors of criminals and rule-breakers. They had come after Thalia five years ago, intent on punishing her for the crime of her existence. I didn't think they would view Percy any differently.  
  
Orange-hat climbed on board the bus. I gulped.  
  
'Percy,' I said urgently, reaching for him. We had to get out of her. The Furies might not have located us yet—they'd settled at the front of the bus, their bright hats (orange, purple and green) bobbing above the head rests of the seat—but in an enclosed bus trundling across the country, they would have plenty of time to sniff us out.   
  
'She didn't stay dead long.' Percy sounded like he was about to hyperventilating. His voice was a notch higher than usual. 'I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime.'  
  
I couldn't believe he was actually referencing a conversation we'd had on his first meeting, when I'd told him about monster archetypes. Most took centuries to return. But these were primordial deities, born from the blood of Ouranos and raised in Tartarus itself. They probably didn't need much time to reform.  
  
'I said if you're _lucky_.' Fear made me snappish. 'You're obviously not.'  
  
Beside me, I could feel Grover trembling as he swore. I forced myself to stay calm. There had to be a way. We'd get out of this. It was only the beginning of the quest.   
  
'It's okay. The Furies,' I said, thinking hard. What did I know about them? 'The three worst monsters from the Unerworld.' _Not helping, Annabeth._ I knew my mother had appeased them once, but it was such an old story … something about bribes … or was it threats?  
  
Grover whimpered.  
  
'No problem,' I said automatically. 'No problem. Um. We'll just …' Get off the bus. Without passing them. Not the doors, so … 'Windows. We'll just slip out the windows.'  
  
I put my hand up on the glass, recognising the problem immediately.  
  
'They don't open!' Grover sounded close to panic.  
  
'A back exit?' I swivelled around in my seat, cursing myself for not thinking of it sooner. I should have planned this all out before, made an escape plan. Now we were stuck on a moving bus with three demon crones blocking the door. Think, Annabeth, _think_!  
  
'They won't attack us with witnesses around, will they?' Percy said hopefully.   
  
'Mortals don't have good eyes. Their brains can only process what they see through the Mist.'  
  
'They'll see three old ladies killing us, won't they?'  
  
'Hard to say.' More likely they'd see us having seizures or something and three kindly grandmothers attempting CPR. Though it was tempting to hope that some guy would be chivalrous enough not to let an elderly lady take on something strenuous, the chances were minute. The Mist probably had an answer for that, too. 'We can't count on mortals for help.' Our best chance was to get out before they found us. There _had_ to be a way. Buses couldn't only have a single door, there had to be some law against it. 'Maybe an emergency exit in the roof …?'  
  
Darkness flooded the bus suddenly and I nearly screamed, thinking it was the Furies' doing, then I realised we'd only plunged into a tunnel. In the glow of the bus's dim internal lighting, I saw the orange hat rise. _She's smelt us_ , I thought. _This is it._ My fingers tightened around the Yankees cap in my hand.  
  
My Yankees cap. It was a gift from my mom, who had appeased the Furies before, so it should probably work to conceal us form them. Except it would only work on one person. My heart pounded furiously against my chest. I knew what the plan had to be.  
  
'I've got it,' I hissed at Grover and Percy as all three hat-sisters came bobbing down the aisle. 'Percy, take my hat.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'You're the one they want. Turn invisible and go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get to the front and get away.'  
  
Percy shook his head wildly. 'But you guys—'  
  
I pressed the cap into his hands. 'There's an outside chance they might not notice us. You're a son of the Big Three. Your smell might be overpowering.'  
  
'I can't just leave you.'  
  
Later I would appreciate his display of loyalty, but at the moment, I just wanted to throttle him. He was the biggest target _and_ he was weaponless. If the Furies got their claws on him, I didn't think he'd be lucky enough to get the tree treatment like Thalia.   
  
I tried not to think about what they might do to me. My dagger felt like it was glowing red-hot in its sheath, preparing for the fight ahead. It was time to see if I could do this, after all. As long as Percy would just—  
  
'Go!' Grover said. 'Don't worry about us, go!'  
  
Percy took the hat and disappeared.  
  
'Please tell me you have a plan,' Grover whispered.  
  
'It'll be okay,' I promised, though it was taking all my courage not to tremble. I put my hand up my sleeve. The celestial bronze was warm under my hand.  
  
The Furies descended on us, Orange-Hat in the lead. They'd shed their mortal appearance, becoming creatures of my nightmares: shrivelled brown demons with leathery wings sprouting from their shoulders and glowing whips that crackled with fiery energy. Only the bright hats remained, perched absurdly on their heads. All hopes I had of escaping their notice vanished like Percy had under my hat.  
  
'Where is it?' Purple-Hat growled. Something about that sentence struck me as odd, but I wasn't in the mood to dissect it. Green-Hat smacked her whip on the seat in front of us, slicing right through a mortal. It didn't hurt the man, but he started to scream. I had no idea what the Mist was showing him, but I bet it couldn't have been as scary as three enraged monsters threatening us with whips. Green-Hat's whip cracked inches from my face, nearly blinding me.   
  
'Where?' Orange-Hat screeched.  
  
'He's not here! He's gone!' I shouted at them. It was no use, though. They might want Percy—I'd guessed that right—but they were perfectly happy to take us down first. I drew my knife from my sleeve, ready to fight.  
  
And then the bus lurched to the left. The Furies were thrown off-balance into an empty seat across the aisle from us. Purple-Hat hit the window so hard, I thought I saw a crack start to form. I had to drive my knife into the headrest of the seat in front of me to keep from swinging towards them.   
  
'We know you have it!' Green-Hat yowled, but the bus was swinging so madly, they were having trouble climbing over each other to get back up to us.  
  
'It?' Grover whispered.  
  
'We don't!' I insisted. I yanked my knife out of the seat and brandished it. _Just one good hit,_ I thought. If I could just avoid the whips, maybe when the bus was still swaying about, I could sink the blade. I staggered to my feet.   
  
'You carry a curse,' Orange-Hat hissed suddenly. 'You—'  
  
The bus did another sharp turn and I fell back against Grover. Orange-Hat flew towards me and I swung my knife in a blind arc. She managed to avoid it, scrambling to the side at the last second. Whatever was going on with the driver—I suspected Percy—he'd finally had enough, because with a violent screech of tyres, the bus hit the brakes. Orange-Hat tumbled forward in the aisle and was nearly stampeded by passengers charging to the doors.  
  
Unfortunately, Green- and Purple-Hat weren't slowed by escaping mortals. They advanced on us, whips blazing through the air.   
  
'Stay back!' I screamed. Something whizzed past my ear—a tin can. I felt Grover reach into his bag for another. Green-Hat's whip curled around the can and flung it easily aside. Orange-Hat got to her feet and started coming at us again, too.  
  
'Hey!'  
  
The Furies' heads whipped around so quickly, their hats flew off in unison. It would probably have been funny if I hadn't been so terrified. Percy, the great idiot, had chosen that moment to show himself, and he stood at the front of the bus, waving his bare arms at them. All three Furies immediately lost interest in Grover and me. Just as I'd thought, it was Percy they were after. I felt no relief, though, only more terror as the Furies turned on him.  
  
 _Not again!_ my mind screamed.  
  
'Perseus Jackson,' Orange-Hat snarled (at least I thought it was her—she was still in the aisles; Green- and Purple-Hat were clambering over the seats). She straightened up and intoned, as if delivering a verdict, 'You have offended the gods. You shall die.' A random memory sped through my head—something about exacting justice.   
  
Somehow, Percy found the wits to taunt her. Her whip whirled around her furiously. I had been ready to charge her from behind, but I had to leap back to avoid it. Percy stuck his hand into his pocket and came up with a ballpoint pen. Then, to my amazement, it extended like a light-sabre.  
  
He hadn't mentioned that he had a _sword_.  
  
'Submit now and you will not suffer eternal torment,' Orange-Hat said, though she sounded less certain about it now that she was up against a long, celestial bronze blade. Her claws tensed around her whip, focusing on Percy. Green-Hat crouched on Percy's left side, preparing to pounce; Purple-Hat mirrored her on the other side. They were all distracted.  
  
'Percy, look out!' I warned, and took a flying leap.  
  
I landed on Orange-Hat's back just as she lashed at Percy. At the same time, he swivelled his sword, simultaneously smashing Green-Hat in the face and slicing Purple-Hat into dust.  
  
One down. But I wasn't celebrating. I had Orange-Hat in a choke-hold and she was bucking so hard I could barely hold on, let alone stab her in the back. Her wings batted against me and she snapped her head back and forth, attempting to sink her fangs into my arms. I grabbed hold of her hair for purchase instead. It writhed under my fingers like live snakes. Grover leapt up and snatched her whip.  
  
'Ow!' he cried as it burned his hands, but he didn't let go. He ran it around her ankles: one round, two, three, until she was all wrapped up. I finally dropped her and she toppled to the ground.  
  
'Zeus will destroy you! Hades will have your soul!'  
  
Percy yelled back at her in Latin. Her beady eyes nearly popped right out of her head.  
  
I remembered at last how Athena had persuaded the Furies to give up their vengeance: a mixture of bribery, offering them a role as protectors of justice, and a veiled threat to unleash the thunderbolts of Zeus upon them.  
  
Thunder rumbled. My heart just about stopped.  
  
'Get out _now_!' I cried.  
  
I would never know if the bolt that struck the bus was Zeus attempting to kill us or my mother persuading him to help us out; either way, the bus exploded right after we dashed out the door.  
  
'Our bags!' Grover cried.  
  
It was too late, though. The bus was a ball of flame around an outraged Fury (no pun intended) who was against all odds still bawling for our blood. I didn't think we should wait around for her to get help.  
  
'Run!' I urged the others. 'She's calling for reinforcements! We have to get out of here!'  
  
Neither Percy nor Grover put up any arguments. I stuck my knife back up my sleeve and we ran for our lives. We didn't stop until we were miles away, the burning bus swallowed by the dark night behind us. Grover and Percy slowed first, breathing hard, but adrenalin was still raging through my veins, pushing me on.  
  
'All three,' Grover kept wailing. 'Three Kindly Ones! _Three_!'  
  
'Need—to—rest—' Percy panted.  
  
'Come on!' I told them. 'The further away we get, the better.' I tugged at their shirts.  
  
'All our money was back there,' Percy moaned. 'Our food and clothes. Everything.'  
  
I stopped dragging him, stung by the underlying accusation. I'd done my best. We were alive. If it hadn't been for my plan—which he hadn't stuck to—we wouldn't even have made it out of there.  
  
'Well,' I shot back, 'maybe if you hadn't decided to jump into the fight—'  
  
'What did you want me to do?' he snarled. 'Let you get killed?'  
  
I didn't want to admit that I'd probably needed his help. I wanted to stamp my foto and tell him it was all his fault. I caught myself, though—that wouldn't be fair. 'You didn't need to protect me, Percy,' I said sullenly. 'I would've been fine.'  
  
Grover coughed. 'Sliced like sandwich bread, but fine.'  
  
I turned on him. 'Shut up, goat boy.'  
  
We'd slowed to a walk. I stomped along behind them, angry and bitter. They marched side by side, commiserating about our lost belongings. Stupid boys.  
  
But as we cooled down and my heart stopped racing, my anger faded. I wasn't really angry with Percy, anyway. None of this was his fault. And he was right—Grover and I hadn't been doing too well on our own against the Furies. It was just, that terror I'd felt when I watched the Furies bear down on him … I thought I knew why I'd got _more_ scared when they turned away. I'd already seen that scene play out once before—countless times, if you counted my nightmares—and it scared me more than anything, that feeling of helplessness while a friend gave their life to protect me.  
  
Percy didn't know that, though. And he could have chosen to escape to safety, carry on the quest without us. But he hadn't. I had to admire that.  
  
I jogged up to him. 'Look I …' The swallowed. The words were hard to get out. 'I appreciate your coming back for us, okay? That was really brave.'  
  
He looked at me. It was dark, but I could tell it was his bemused look, the one he gave me whenever he didn't get something during lessons. 'We're a team, right?'  
  
The simple way he said it took my breath away. As though there was no question about it. It reminded me of being with Thalia and Luke, so many years ago. _We're family, right?_ Except we had left Thalia behind on Half-Blood Hill and then Luke had left me behind two years ago and I didn't really know if I was still his family any more …  
  
 _We're a team, right?_ I felt like crying. But I didn't want to, not in front of Percy, so I said instead, 'It's just that if you died … aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean that the quest was over. This may be my only chance to see the real world.' Admittedly, I wasn't feeling so keen on another adventure out in the world so soon after the Furies, but it _had_ been my dream to be able to travel. I still wanted to see the sights described in the books: all the great monuments of the world. With a pang, I remembered my architecture book, incinerated with the rest of our things.  
  
'You haven't left Camp Half-Blood since you were seven?' Percy said curiously.  
  
'No … only short field trips. My dad—'  
  
'The history professor?'  
  
I blinked in surprise. It still shocked me when Percy remembered little insignificant details like that. 'Yeah. It didn't work out for me living at home. I mean, Camp Half-Blood _is_ my home.' I felt a slight twinge of guilt. I hadn't even thought to let my dad know I was going on a quest. When I'd thought about saying goodbye to family, I'd thought only of Luke. I pushed the guilt aside. Luke _was_ my family. He and Thalia had taken care of me in the real world when my dad couldn't, at least until we got to camp and I started learning to take care of myself. Now I was out here again, with one chance to show if I had the ability to take on the real world. I said, 'At camp you train and train, and that's all cool and everything, but the real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not.'  
  
 _And you aren't, are you?_ A little voice sneered in my head. _You didn't stop the hellhound at camp, you couldn't handle the Furies now. You failed … just like you failed Thalia._  
  
'You're pretty good with that knife,' Percy said.  
  
I paused. 'You think so?'  
  
'Anybody who can piggyback-ride a Fury is okay by _me_ ,' he said staunchly.  
  
I smiled despite myself and decided not to correct him. I guess he'd earned the right to call him by name, after standing up to three Kindly Ones who had been searching for him.  
  
It struck me like an anvil then, the thing that had struck me as odd when the Furies had been looking for Percy. _Where is it?_ they'd said. _It_ , not _him_. And one of them had said something about a curse …  
  
'You know, maybe I should tell you …' I started to say, 'something funny on the bus …'  
  
Grover blew shrilly into his reed pipes, interrupting me in his excitement. He suggested a 'find path' song and started the tune.  
  
I didn't sense any navigational enlightenment. Percy walked into a tree. I _think_ it was unrelated.   
  
I felt the knot on his head in sympathy, but there wasn't much I could do. Our rations of nectar and ambrosia had been left behind with everything else. All we had were my knife and hat, Percy's pen/sword, and Grover's pipes. Which were not proving to be any use as a GPS.  
  
I decided the first thing we needed when we found civilisation was a good map. Twenty minutes later, I changed my mind; I was beginning to realise how hungry I was after all that Fury-fighting and running. We emerged from the edge of the woods and the smell of fried chicken wafted in the air.   
  
Percy and I looked at each other. I could tell we had the same idea. We sped up immediately, letting our noses lead the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All recognisable dialogue is from _Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief_.


	10. Percy Gets The Head Of My Mom's Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio walk out of one fight straight into another.

When I look back on that first quest, it's hard to believe I was so stupid. A deserted roadside shop with the weirdest name ever (at least, according to Grover—my eyes refused to focus on the letters of the lurid neon sign), the tantalising smell that was so incongruous but also too good to be true … most of all, Grover's insistence that the place was a mistake.  
  
It's kind of embarrassing, considering how much I prided myself on being able to discern the true nature of things. I'd displayed more wisdom at the age of seven, against the beguiling deceitfulness of a Cyclops.  
  
I guess it was a valuable lesson: hunger can totally warp your brain and dull your senses.  
  
Percy and I convinced Grover to enter the shop, past the rows of garden statues, which he kept shrinking from. I couldn't see why—I mean, I wasn't a fan of the things, but Grover had said the shop sold garden gnomes. What did he expect, marble gods?  
  
'I smell monsters,' he whined.  
  
I breathed in deeply, which was a mistake. The smell of food was so overwhelming, it made my legs shaky.  
  
'Your nose is clogged up from the Furies. All I smell is burgers. Aren't you hungry?'  
  
We ignored Grover's protests and knocked on the door. The lady that answered was wearing a full Islamic burqa, concealing her entire face except for a thin veil across her eyes. This did raise my suspicions a little, but I could see clearly two dark eyes peering curiously at us through the veil. Not a Cyclops, then.  
  
Her lightly accented voice was full of gentle concern as she asked what we were doing out this late, without parents. It was a normal, reasonable question for any mortal. I shouldn't judge her based on her clothing choice. _How racist is that, Annabeth?_ A voice chastised me in my head.  
  
Also, that _smell_. Something really good was cooking inside.  
  
Of course, we couldn't exactly tell her the truth. I was about to make up something mortal-friendly, about running away from abusive parents—I figured given our ramshackle appearance, it would make a believable cover story—but Percy jumped in first, spinning an incredulous story about being circus orphans separated from our caravan. I wanted to slap him round the head, but amazingly, Miss Burqa swallowed the tale. Either that, or she just felt sorry for us.  
  
'I am Aunty Em,' she said, and pointed us to the dining area.  
  
I poked Percy. 'Circus caravan?'  
  
'Always have a strategy, right?' he said brightly.  
  
His idea of strategy was ridiculous. 'Your head is full of kelp,' I informed him. He just shrugged.  
  
' _Annabeth_ ,' Grover whimpered, tugging at my sleeve as we entered a warehouse full of more statues: bigger ones, the kind that would probably make good decorations in a fancy fountain. I shook him off. We were approaching a bunch of picnic tables in front of a fast-food counter and the smell of cooking burgers was maddening.   
  
Aunty Em sat us down at one of the picnic tables and promised us a free meal. This probably should have sent up alarm bells (who was that generous?) but like I said, hunger was driving me.  
  
'Thank you, ma'am,' I said gratefully.  
  
'Quite all right, Annabeth,' she said. I guess she'd heard Grover speaking to me earlier. Her voice seemed a bit stiff, but she followed up, much more warmly, 'you have such beautiful grey eyes, child.'  
  
My stomach growled. I looked away, embarrassed, but Aunty Em just laughed and started to cook up a storm: cheeseburgers, French fries, large paper cups with milkshakes … the sort of thing you'd get at a normal fast-food joint. Percy and I exchange a glance, and then we dove in with relish.  
  
Only Grover wasn't attacking the food. He kept trying to point out weird things about the place—odd noises, funny feelings—that only he could hear or sense. Aunty Em responded soothingly to him, as one might speak to a wild animal. A sudden, wary thought broke through my sluggish mind, that maybe she _knew_ he was a creature of the wild, so to speak.  
  
My alertness returned. I still couldn't hear any of the noises Grover was going on about, but I began to have that prickly sensation of something supernatural.  
  
Percy had started up a lazy conversation with Aunty Em as he ate, spearing fries in sauce and crunching them down with a satisfied expression.   
  
'You notice some of my creations do not turn out well,' Aunty Em said. 'They are marred. They do not sell. The face is hardest to get right. Always the face.'  
  
Was it the statues? I studied the one nearest to me, the form of a tall burly man carved with incredible precision. The detail was so intricate, I had to admire the artistry that had to have gone into it: the tensed lines of his biceps, the individual hairs clumping on his head, down to the stone wrinkles around his mouth, shaped in a wide, open 'O'.  
  
'You make these statues yourself?' Percy said.  
  
'Oh, yes. Once upon a time, I had two sisters to help me in the business, but they have passed on, and Aunty Em is alone.'  
  
Something in her statement tugged at my brain. I turned away from the statue. 'Two sisters?' Probably—hopefully—it meant nothing, but her plus two sisters … three was a special number. A lot of things in the mythological world came in threes: three questers, three Fates, three Furies … three sisters.  
  
Aunty Em shook her head sorrowfully. 'It's a terrible story. Not one for children, really.' She didn't stop her tale, though. 'You see, Annabeth,' the way she said my name, slowly and delicately, as one might savour a tasty morsel of candy, sent a chill down my spine, 'a bad woman was jealous of me, long ago, when I was young. I had a … a boyfriend, you know, and this bad woman was determined to break us apart. She caused a terrible accident. My sisters stayed by me. They shared my bad fortune as long as they could, but eventually they passed on. They faded away. I alone have survived, but at a price. Such a price.'  
  
I still couldn't tell if Aunty Em was someone dangerous—my impression of her kept shifting—but her story struck a chord with me, and not in a good way. Grover was right; there was something wrong with this place.  
  
'Percy,' I said. To my alarm, his eyelids were drooping. I grabbed his shoulder. 'Percy!'  
  
He blinked. 'Huh?'  
  
Aunty Em studied me, only her veiled gaze no longer felt warm and concerned. It was more … calculative, as though she were now sizing me up. I tried to keep my voice controlled and steady. 'Maybe we should go. I mean, er, the ringmaster will be waiting.'  
  
Aunty Em leaned towards me. 'Such beautiful grey eyes, oh me,' she said, making me think of the wolf luring in Red Riding Hood. _The better to see you with_ , my head filled in. 'Yes, it has been a long time since I've seen grey eyes like those.'  
  
I jumped back, right off the picnic bench, as she reached one long-fingered hand towards my cheek. Her nails were long and manicured with curvy lines on them … snakes, I realised. Who painted their nails with pictures of snakes?  
  
'We really should go,' I told Percy. I was completely with Grover now. This place was weird.  
  
'Yes! The ringmaster is waiting! Right!' Grover joined me quickly. I was glad Percy had gone with the circus story after all. We couldn't have made up an excuse to leave with my runaways idea.  
  
'Please, dears, I so rarely get to be with children. Before you go, won't you at least sit for a pose?' Her voice had gone back to the alluring consistency of honey.  
  
'A pose?'  
  
'A photograph. I will use it to model a new statue set. Children are so popular, you see. Everyone loves children.'  
  
The funny thing was, even as sirens were blaring inside my head, a small corner of my mind speaking with that same syrupy tone stalled my feet. _What's the harm? A favour for a sweet old lady._  
  
I hesitated. 'I don't think we can, ma'am?' The urge to run right out of the building fought with the compulsion to appease Aunty Em. I still hinged towards _run_ , though. I hauled Percy to his feet. 'Come on, Percy.'  
  
Percy pulled out of my grip. 'Sure we can!' he said to Aunty Em. 'It's just a photo, Annabeth, what's the harm?'  
  
 _Yes, Annabeth, no harm._ The voice in my mind mirrorred Aunty Em's so exactly, I wasn't sure if I'd actually heard it out loud. The scales of my indecision tipped in Aunty Em's favour, especially when she gestured towards the exit. It was the same direction I'd wanted to run in, anyway.  
  
A stone satyr guarded a park bench in the garden outside. It was so lifelike, I could almost imagine it bleating at me, a desperate warning …  
  
 _Just a clever carving, my dear._  
  
 _No_ , I thought, _that's wrong. All this is wrong._  
  
On my right, Percy nodded affably. One moment, his face seemed sleepy and satiated, the next a spark of confusion lit his eyes. I wondered if I looked like that, too.  
  
'Something's wrong,' I said. 'Percy, something's wrong.'  
  
The stone satyr was still staring intently at me with his frozen expression of terror, like it was trying to tell me something. Statues … three sisters … terrible accident …  
  
 _Nonsense, dear._  
  
'That _is_ Uncle Ferdinand!' Grover yelped.  
  
The image poured into my mind, breaking Aunty Em's spell: people, satyrs, all lured to this bench, smiling mindlessly until brilliant eyes cast a petrifying beam of power straight at them. Their expressions giving way to sheer terror when they realised, too late, that sweet Aunty Em was in fact the gorgon Medusa.  
  
Who was lowering her burqa.  
  
There was no times for plans or strategy. I simply reacted.  
  
'Look away from her!' I yelled, and pushed at Grover and Percy. They toppled off the bench. I didn't know if they'd broken out of her trance. At least I could get them out of immediate sight. My Yankees cap was fortunately still in my pocket. I put it on and dived away, keeping my eyes on the ground.  
  
Grover reacted quickly, darting behind a clump of statues, but Percy remained on his hands and knees. He looked up slowly.  
  
'No, don't!' I cried. Thank the gods, he froze—figuratively, that is—and kept his gaze at the level of Medusa's navel.  
  
Medusa hissed as she advanced on him. I thought it was her hair, actually, since they were meant to be serpents, but I didn't look up to check. I didn't dare look beyond her feet, which had shrunk into scaly clawed talons. Could Medusa make invisible statues? It wasn't a theory I cared to test.  
  
Why had it taken me so long to realise? Why hadn't I seen this earlier? Why had I ignored Grover's misgivings? We'd been so stupid, letting her lure us in with the offer of food—free food, indeed. We were certainly paying for it now.  
  
I could hear her talking to Percy with that beguiling voice. It must have had some charmspeak in it, the persuasive lure that some monsters were gifted with. She wasn't attacking yet—she must have wanted us as statues more than anything—but I wasn't going to count on that for long.  
  
'Don't listen to her! _Run_ , Percy!' I begged him.  
  
I darted around behind her, my knife at the ready, but without the ability to look at her, I was never going to get a good hit.  
  
'Silence!' Medusa screeched. A sharp claw swung out towards me. It was so fast and I wasn't expecting it since I was invisible. She must still have sensed me somehow; she slashed across my wrist. Blood gushed from the cut. I clamped a hand over it and stumbled back.   
  
'You see why I must destroy the girl, Percy. She is my enemy's daughter. I shall crush her statue to dust.'  
  
Fear pulsed through my veins. The story came flooding forth in my head now: Medusa, seduced by Poseidon in Athena's virgin temple, cursed with a head full of snakes and eyes with the power to petrify all who looked upon her. This monster was _my_ mortal enemy. I remembered the way she had focused right on me, singled me out by name, and honed in on my eyes—my mother's eyes. She'd known from the start. _I_ was her target.  
  
I wanted to run out of there as fast as my legs would carry me. But Percy still crouched motionless at her feet. He hadn't abandoned us to the Furies; I wasn't going to leave him to become a statue. Besides, one look at the live statuary around me was enough proof that we couldn't leave Medusa free to lure more people to their doom.  
  
The only thing was, I didn't have a plan of attack. Her original conqueror, the hero Perseus, had slayed Medusa with a sword. All I had was my knife.  
  
It was Grover who saved the day. He swooped in, eyes shut tight, lifted high by Luke's flying shoes, and somehow managed to brain Medusa with a tree branch using only his sense of smell and hearing to guide him. I promised myself never to distrust his senses again.  
  
Percy finally broke out of his Medusa-induced trance and crawled away, right towards me.  
  
'Percy!' I hissed before he could slam into me.  
  
'Jeez!' He leapt about two feet into the air. 'Don't do that!'  
  
I took my cap off so that he could see me. Now that he was out of the line of fire, I felt a little calmer. I gathered my thoughts quickly, putting together a plan. Grover was keeping her busy, but it wouldn't work for long. We had to decapitate her properly. Percy had the sword. But he couldn't just run up and swing blindly.   
  
'You have to cut her head off.'  
  
'What?' Percy looked at me as though I'd just sprouted snakes on my head myself. 'Are you crazy? Let's get out of here.'  
  
I gestured at the statues. 'Medusa is a menace! She's evil … I'd kill her myself, but—' I couldn't even come close, invisible. I hated to admit it, but Percy was going to have to take point. She'd already shown a soft spot for him as the son of Poseidon. And he was better equipped for it than me. 'You've got the better weapon. Besides, I'd never get close to her. She'd slice me to bits because of my mother. You—you've got a chance.'  
  
'What? I can't—'  
  
I pointed at the statues around us. 'Do you want her turning more innocent people into statues?'  
  
He seemed to get it then. I looked around, trying to see if there was anything that might help us get near enough to aim. Among the various statues were other garden ornaments, including a stand with a green yard globe about half a metre in diameter. I quickly grabbed it. Percy looked at me quizzically.   
  
'A shield would be better,' I admitted, remembering how Perseus in the legend had used one to get close to Medusa. But I could still see my warped reflection in the polished surface of the sphere. And the irregular image might be a bonus … I calculated quickly. 'The convexity will cause some distortion. The reflection's size should be off by a factor of—'  
  
'Would you speak English?'  
  
'I _am_!' Just because his brains were too mushy to comprehend it. 'Just look at her in the glass,' I said, passing him the globe. It should be safe enough to dilute the power of her eyes. ' _Never_ look at her directly.'  
  
There were more yells and thumps as Grover banged Medusa about. He was doing a fantastic job, but I didn't know how much longer he'd keep it up. I nudged Percy forward.  
  
'Hurry! Grover's got a great nose, but he'll eventually crash.'  
  
Percy pulled out his pen. The bronze sword appeared with a loud _SHINK_. I donned my cap again and ran among the statues, eyes downcast, listening intently. I heard Grover's wail as he went crashing into something, and then Percy yelling to get Medusa's attention. Just as I'd told him, Medusa didn't strike. She murmured to him, low and enticing.  
  
'Stay focused,' I muttered. 'Come on, Percy.'  
  
A triumphant cackle, followed by the swish of Percy's sword, and then there was a sickening squelch. A low gurgling noise followed, like a pot bubbling over. I inched cautiously towards the sounds.  
  
Medusa's veil lay discarded on the ground. Something big lay at Percy's feet, trailing lime-green sludge. I looked away quickly, realising what it was.  
  
' _Yuck_ ,' Grover said. 'Mega-yuck.'  
  
I agreed. The bubbling trickle of monster blood across the ground was enough to make me puke. It smelt terrible, too, like rotted slugs. The last thing I wanted to do was go near it, but we couldn't leave the head there, a petrification trap for any unwitting passer-by. I scooped up the veil and felt my way closer, still looking up so I wouldn't accidentally see it. When I felt the squelch of goo under my feet, I flung the veil out. I got down and wrapped up Medusa's head by touch.  
  
Finally, once it was safely contained by several layers of black silk, I handed it to Percy. He looked decidedly queasy.  
  
'Are you okay?'  
  
'Yeah.' He looked at the wrapped-up head in his hands. 'Why didn't … why didn't the head evaporate?'  
  
'Once you sever it, it becomes a spoil of war. Same as your Minotaur horn. But don't unwrap the head,' I warned. 'It can still petrify you.' I didn't think he would, but he'd displayed plenty of idiotic moments before.  
  
We brought the head back to the dining area inside the building. My half-eaten burger was still on the table, along with a handful of fries, but I wasn't hungry any more. I wondered if I'd actually been in the first place, or if that had been Medusa's magic, too. Grover came up with a bunch of plastic bags from behind the fast-food counter and I added another layer of protection about the head. We dropped disconsolately onto the picnic bench, the exhaustion of two monster-fights catching up with us.  
  
'So,' Percy said after a moment, 'we have Athena to thank for this monster?'  
  
I glared at him. Just like a son of Poseidon, to blame it on my mother. 'Your dad, actually,' I said. 'Don't you remember? Medusa was _Poseidon's_ girlfriend.' I reminded him of the full story: how Poseidon and Medusa had insulted Athena by getting it on in her temple—the virgin temple, no less—and my mom had retaliated on the three sisters, making them the gorgons.  
  
'Oh, so now it's _my_ fault we met Medusa.'  
  
My face heated up. Sure, I'd been taken in at the beginning, too, but I'd tried to get us out of there. _He'd_ been suckered in all the way, just like his stupid father. ' _It's just a photo, Annabeth, what's the harm?_ ' I mimicked.  
  
'Forget it. You're impossible.'  
  
' _You're_ insufferable,' I shot back.  
  
'You're—'   
  
But what I was, I never found out, because Grover jumped in, making a time-out sign with his hands. 'Hey! You two are giving me a migraine, and satyrs don't even _get_ migraines!'  
  
I gave Percy one more defiant glare, then turned away to look at Grover instead.  
  
'What are we going to do with the head?' Grover asked.  
  
'Er …' It was our spoil of war—okay, Percy's spoil of war—but it wasn't like it was something we'd want to cart across the country. I was loathe to leave it lying around, though. Even wrapped up, the chances that someone would come across it and unwrap it out of curiosity were too high.  
  
Percy stood suddenly. His expression was wooden. 'I'll be back,' he said, and stomped off toward the back of the room.  
  
'Percy, what are you doing?'  
  
He didn't reply.  
  
'Annabeth,' Grover said. He was staring at the wrapped-up Medusa head. 'You know what? I don't think she did it just for Percy's dad.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'It's … don't you think it's weird?' Grover mused. 'The monsters seem to be, well, they seem to want something from us. Besides killing us. Like the Kindly Ones, they weren't just asking us about Percy, they wanted something. And her,' he indicated the head, 'she didn't just kill him outright, it was like she was trying to sweet-talk him into … I dunno what, but it just doesn't add up.'  
  
He was right. I hadn't been able to dwell on it, what with one fight after the other, but I'd noticed it, too. I thought back to the Furies on the bus, the way they'd tracked us to the bus, but waited to approach us. 'You're right,' I said. 'I thought they just hadn't noticed us to begin with, but that doesn't make sense. They must have known we were on the bus. It … they were more aggressive. You know, _before_.'  
  
I didn't have to elaborate. Grover remembered our flight to camp, too. His face turned pale and he nodded.   
  
'Do you think,' I said slowly working through the instructions of our task in my head, 'we've got it wrong? Like, maybe someone _else_ has the bolt?' If it wasn't Hades, the Underworld would be the wrong place to look. Who else could it possibly be? 'What did Percy say about his prophecy? We have to go west to face a god …'  
  
'He'd go west to face the god who turned,' Grover said. 'And he'd find and return what was stolen—that has to mean the bolt.'  
  
'Well, we keep heading west, then. What else was there?'  
  
'That's all he told us.'  
  
I frowned. 'If he's keeping something from us …'  
  
Grover shook his head. 'Percy wouldn't hide anything that would help us. But Annabeth, I think … I think Percy _needs_ to go to the Underworld.'  
  
'Only if the bolt is actually there …'  
  
'It's not just the bolt. You know the Minotaur got his mom.'  
  
'So?'  
  
'Well, she was, like, everything to him. I think he'd try anything to—'  
  
Before he could finish, Percy came running back with a box in his hands.  
  
'What are you doing?' I asked him again.  
  
'Sending a parcel,' he said obscurely. He shoved Medusa's head into the box. He'd also brought along a delivery slip and a little drawstring pouch. In a large scrawl, he printed an address on the slip: one I'd told him a week ago. Mount Olympus, at the Empire State Building.   
  
Athena's owls, he meant to mail the head to the gods.  
  
'They're not going to like that! They'll think you're impertinent,' Grover said.  
  
Percy paid no attention to Grover's warning. He doggedly signed off his name in block letters and threw a handful of drachmas into the pouch. All of it vanished.   
  
'I _am_ impertinent,' he declared. But he didn't look at Grover while he said it. He stared at me, chin raised slightly in defiance.  
  
Mostly I agreed with Grover—doing the equivalent of thumbing your nose at the gods was a really stupid idea—but part of me kind of admired Percy's guts. I was starting to become very familiar with the feeling of straddling a line between two compelling emotions, and this time it had nothing to do with Medusa's charmspeak.  
  
Shaking my head, I said, 'Come on, we need a new plan.'  
  
I figured we'd only gone about twenty miles west, which meant we had only nine days to cover, what, a thousand? It had been a long and tiring day, though, and I doubted we'd get much farther without rest.   
  
We could have slept in the shop, but none of us wanted to spend any more time there. Besides, it seemed wrong to camp out in the midst of a bunch of statues who had once been people (and satyrs). So we just raided the shop for supplies and hiked on until we found a clearing in the woods. By then, I was so exhausted that I didn't even protest when Percy offered to take the first watch. I was asleep before my head hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon dialogue taken from _Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief_.


	11. I Dream My Way Across Three States

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grover secures the trio passage by train and they re-start the long journey west.

I dreamt of a woman in a golden glass ball. She was as still as one of Aunty Em's statues, frozen with her mouth wide open in a scream. Unlike the statues, though, she was flesh, not stone, and accordingly, her face was a million times more expressive. Her eyes were wide with fear, but I got the sense that she wasn't terrified for herself. She had a half-pleading look, like she wanted to beg for mercy for someone else.  
  
A gloved hand waved over the ball and it shrank to about the size of the lawn globe I had given Percy to reflect Medusa's image. The owner of the hand held the glass ball, now with miniature woman, and stared at it thoughtfully. Dark flames danced dangerously in his eyes.   
  
'So you failed to retrieve it,' he said. 'Again.'  
  
I knew the old lady standing before him. Well, I knew she wasn't actually an old lady, but she was back in her human disguise—our friend Orange-Hat the Fury, with the same grizzled face and demonic eyes. And I knew who she was reporting to: her boss, the Lord of the Underworld. If she hadn't tried to kill us, I might have felt sorry for her. Hades wasn't the sort of god you wanted to turn in a failed report to.  
  
Of course, this was the god who had sent hellhounds and Furies after me when I was seven (okay, after Thalia, but same difference), and again now. I was completely okay with her _not_ succeeding at something he wanted done.  
  
'I searched their things. It wasn't in there.' She flicked her hand, the way you might release a bowling ball, and three bags rolled out of nowhere onto the floor before Hades. I recognised our backpacks. Tin cans spilled out of Grover's.  
  
Hades made a furious slash with his free hand. Orange-Hat winced, but he only incinerated the three packs. Grover's tin cans threw sparks around like mini fireworks.  
  
'I will return again!' Orange-Hat said quickly.  
  
'Forget it!' Hades said. 'The boy is craftier than we expected. No matter. He will come, in the end.' He twirled the glass ball in his palm and studied it. 'Yes, I am sure of it. Percy Jackson will come, and he will bring it to me. After all, I have what he wants.'  
  
I got a good look at him sitting there on his ornate throne—so much grander than the temporary seat the Olympians had given him at their winter council—made of obsidian inlaid with diamonds and raised on a pedestal of bones. Then the scene changed and I was in the woods of Camp Half-Blood. There must have been a game of capture the flag going on because the campers were decked out in blue and red armour, though their faces were shadowed by their helmets so I couldn't tell who was who.  
  
The two banners were standards that had never in my memory flown in a game. One was painted a light sea-green and bore a silver trident and a horse. The other was rippling gold and carried a giant eagle whose wings spanned the entire banner. A lightning bolt marched down the centre.   
  
Poseidon and Zeus.  
  
I stood between the two standard-bearers, uncertain as to which team I should join. The natural choice was to gather under Zeus's standard; Athena always opposed Poseidon. But something kept me wavering. It was like being back in the statuary, with equal forces compelling me to trust Aunty Em and escape Medusa.  
  
I felt torn. I took a step towards the Zeus banner, but when I looked back over my shoulder, there was Percy, holding up the flag of Poseidon. His eyes, the same colour as the flag, gazed hauntingly at me.  
  
'We're a team, right?' he said, except for a second, he was also Luke, mouthing, _we're a family, right?_ His image flickered and suddenly he was Thalia, growing roots beneath his feet.  
  
I turned around and fled along the creek, back towards the cabins.  
  
I stopped at the edge of the woods. Someone had hung a bench swing from one of the tree branches. My heart gave a funny skip when I recognised Luke, pushing himself back and forth wit one foot, deep in thought, his sandy hair rustling in the wind. He was actually staring straight at me, though of course he couldn't see me, not in the dream.  
  
A girl came down the path that led from the cabins. She was tall and slim and her blond hair shone like silk in the moonlight. She was one of those perfect-looking cabin ten girls: flawless make-up, not a curl out of place. Her eyes were a bright, alluring blue, the colour of forget-me-nots. One of the Aphrodite girls—Silena Beauregard. She waved at Luke and he responded with the steady, reassuring smile that warmed my heart. This time it only made me cringe, hoping I wasn't witnessing a pre-arranged meeting.  
  
'You're out late,' Silena said. 'Camp leader, almost breaking curfew?' Her voice was teasing, with just the right hint of playfulness. I didn't remember her being particularly close to him. Had they struck up a friendship since I'd left?  
  
'Just thinking,' Luke said.  
  
'Must be deep thoughts, huh,' Silena said. 'Want to tell me about them?' She lifted one eyebrow invitingly. I wondered if she was charmspeaking, too. Some of the Aphrodite girls had the power, but I couldn't remember if she was one of them.  
  
'Oh, er, nothing much,' Luke said. 'Camp stuff.'  
  
'The fighting, you mean?' She sighed. 'Do you think Percy Jackson will be able to stop it? With that quest he's on?'  
  
Luke's eyes darkened. 'Hard to say.'  
  
'You must be worried about them. I heard the girl who went with them—Annabeth, she's a good friend of yours, isn't she?'  
  
My heart pounded, waiting for his reply. It took a while—too long—for him to answer.  
  
'Yeah,' he said finally. Then, to my intense disappointment (and mild chagrin), he changed the subject. 'You're looking nice tonight.'  
  
Silena blushed. 'Thanks.'  
  
'And you're right about curfew. Come on, I'll walk you back to your cabin.' He jumped down from the swing and offered her his arm, which she took with a giggle.  
  
I was debating whether I should follow them when I felt a cool hand on my shoulder. I turned, and there was my mother, or at least a shimmering, insubstantial image of her. I didn't know how she managed to touch me in her ghostly form.  
  
I bowed.  
  
She shook her head at me. 'Emotions are messy, daughter. Leave them behind. You must uncover the truth.'  
  
'What truth? I don't understand.'  
  
But she faded away. A dryad skipped out from the tree where Luke's swing hung, with a silver flute in her hands. She brought it to her lips, but instead of a lilting melody, the rough semblance of a jarring pop tune came out, peppered with a bunch of wrong notes.  
  
I was awake for a few minutes before I realised that the horrible music was Grover practising on his reed pipes. I grabbed a snack pack from the bag of supplies we'd scrounged from Medusa's lair and threw it at him. His playing stopped.  
  
'What's that supposed to do, send monsters into a feeding frenzy?' I said.  
  
'Ha ha,' Grover said.  
  
The sun was high above the trees, but that didn't mean much in the middle of summer. It could just as well be five in the morning as nine am. Percy was still asleep, muttering under his breath. I guessed his dreams were about as restful as mine.  
  
'Did you get any sleep?' I asked Grover.  
  
He shook his head. 'It's okay. I'm not that tired. We ought to get moving once Percy wakes up. Only nine days left to get the bolt.'  
  
'About that …'  
  
'What?'  
  
'You know how were were saying yesterday that something didn't seem right? With Medusa and the Kindly Ones?' I told him about my dream and Hades's certainty that Percy would bring him what he wanted.  
  
'It really sounds like he _doesn't_ have the bolt. But why would he think _Percy_ has it?'  
  
I glanced at Percy, still fast asleep but moaning like a zombie. 'He doesn't, does he?'  
  
'Of course not. We'd know. Anyway, all our things were on that bus.'  
  
'Yeah. Right.' It was a stupid thought. If Percy had wanted to strike a bargain with Hades, he'd had plenty of opportunity to do so. He didn't have to fight Furies and Medusa to save our arses. He could have just handed over what Hades wanted. It was just that, we had no other leads. Like Grover had said, the summer solstice was in nine days. If Hades _wasn't_ the thief, how would we ever find the real one?   
  
'Maybe it's something else he wants, in addition to the bolt he already has,' Grover suggested.   
  
'Maybe,' I said. 'I guess we stick to the plan. Keep heading for L.A. It's …' I looked around blankly. The road ran along on our right. We could hitchhike, but that probably wasn't the safest thing to do even as mortals. Plus, I wasn't keen on being inside a tiny enclosed vehicle with a stranger again.   
  
On our left, the woods ran downhill. I could make out a pair of faint lines at the bottom, glinting in the sun. A railway track. Maybe there was a station nearby. Trying to sneak onto a train would be really tough, though.  
  
Grover got to his feet. 'You watch over Percy. I'm going to see if I can find a dryad to talk to or something. They might have some ideas.'  
  
While he was gone, I sorted through the supplies we'd taken from Aunty Em's. It wasn't much: a handful of snacks from her bar (I popped open a bag of Cheetos for breakfast), the blankets we'd slept on, twenty bucks and a handful of drachmas. I hoped Grover managed to find us some help. Golden drachmas were useless in the mortal world and twenty dollars wouldn't get us very far.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Grover returned with the most unexpected guide ever: a bubble-gum-pink poodle. Its' fur was matted and snarled, and it seemed to have picked up a collection of loose twigs and assorted dirt, all of which were tangled in its curls. It trotted obediently at Grover's heels, yapping occasionally as if responding to him. As they got close enough for me to hear Grover talking, I realised the poodle _was_ actually replying him. I'd forgotten that satyrs could speak the language of all animals. There weren't exactly many pets at camp for them to demonstrate the skill.  
  
'Gladiola, this is Annabeth. Annabeth, Gladiola.'  
  
The poodle—Gladiola—barked at me.  
  
'Uh, hi,' I said. 'Nice to meet you.'  
  
Gladiola sniffed at me, then looked at Grover as if to say, _yeah, she's all right, I guess._  
  
'Gladiola says he'll help us,' Grover said. 'He can get us some cash.'  
  
'What?' I stared at Gladiola, perplexed, wondering if he maybe had dollar bills hidden somewhere under the rubbish he'd collected in his fur.  
  
'He's got a $200 reward on him,' Grover explained. 'If we return him to his owners, we get enough for a train fare west.'  
  
'You're kidding,' I said. I looked at Gladiola. 'You don't want to go back, do you?'  
  
Gladiola tossed his head from side to side and gave a long bark.  
  
'He says not really, but he gets that we're in a pinch,' Grover translated.  
  
'Wow. Well, um, thanks, Gladiola. That's real kind of you.'  
  
Percy shuddered and rolled over in his sleep. 'No, won't—won't help …'  
  
I decided it was time for him to rejoin the land of the living. I put a hand on his shoulder and shook him roughly.  
  
'Ungh,' he said. Then he opened his eyes, looking disoriented.  
  
'Well, the zombie lives.' Now that we had a plan again, I felt lots more cheerful.  
  
He pushed himself shakily into a sitting position. 'How long was I asleep?'  
  
I shrugged. 'Long enough for me to cook breakfast.' I rummaged in the plastic bag of snacks and passed him the first one that came to hand.  
  
As he ate, we introduced him to Gladiola and explained the plan. For some reason, he got a bit uptight about the idea of talking to a poodle. I couldn't speak dog like Grover, but I think the feeling was mutual.  
  
I made Percy carry our Medusa-store supplies and follow behind us as Grover and I brought Gladiola back to his delighted owners. Before long, we were $200 richer—for about half an hour, at least, until we splurged it all on Amtrak tickets. Unfortunately, tickets to Los Angeles cost twice what we had.   
  
'We could split up,' Grover said uncertainly. 'Two of us keep going …'  
  
'No,' I said firmly. 'We can get as far as Denver. It's close enough, we'll figure something out from there.'  
  
'We're a team,' Percy agreed. 'No one gets left behind.'  
  
Our eyes met. For a second, I felt a sense of security, like someone had thrown a warm, fuzzy blanket over my shoulders.  
  
I shrugged it off. 'Come on. We've got a train to catch.'  
  
OoOoO  
  
The Amtrak line wound south first, through Philadelphia, which was an architectural heaven. I hadn't had the chance to see it before—Luke, Thalia and I had hugged the Jersey coast on our journey north—so I relished my first views of Philly's landmarks when the train slowed moving into and out of the city. I got a good close-up of the Customs House, which was one of the early tribute to the gods that had spurred their western migration to America. It had been designed by another child of Athena, back in the 1800s. He'd used the Parthenon as his model, and I admired the fluted doric columns (eight, just like the original) that frame the entrance steps.  
  
'It was designed in a contest,' I told Grover and Percy excitedly. 'All the designs submitted had to be in Greek style. Of course it won—the Parthenon is _the_ ultimate temple of Athena.'  
  
'Uh huh,' Grover said sleepily. He was nodding off after having been up all night.  
  
We continued on through the plains of Pennsylvania, and the sights turned to wide farmlands. I began to wish I had my book with me. Two days of travelling was a long time, and without something to focus my mind on, I was feeling kind of agitated.  
  
For a while, I occupied myself with various newspapers other passengers had discarded. They didn't have very cheerful information. Percy's picture was splashed across the front pages, under headlines like 'DISTURBED TEEN TOP SUSPECT IN KIDNAP CASE', and 'NEW TWIST IN JACKSON STORY: BUS HIJACKED IN NEW JERSEY'. In one particularly helpful version, the title screamed, 'REWARD OFFERED FOR JACKSON AND ACCOMPLICES'.  
  
I didn't think that the mortal police would catch us—the Mist could be helpful that way—but it still wasn't fun to have a bounty on our heads.  
  
The sky was darkening as we crossed over into Ohio, trundling just south of Lake Erie. I watched the golden rays of the setting sun dance over the water and thought about the temple I wanted to design someday—a monument that could stand in tribute to _all_ the gods, uniting all their facades. Something big. Something amazing. Demigods in the future would marvel at it years after I was gone and tell each other, _a daughter of Athena designed that_.  
  
It would be my legacy.  
  
'No,' Percy murmured, 'I won't help you.'  
  
He sounded so adamant in his refusal, I nearly snapped that I hadn't asked for his help. Then I realised he wasn't talking to me—he had dozed off, too, sitting between me and Grover. His head drooped to the side, nearly falling on my shoulder. I nudged him back upright.  
  
'Blaaa-haa-haa,' Grover snorted. He kicked out at Percy as though in response to Percy's sleep-talking and one of the fake feet he wore came loose. It hinged off his hoof, swinging for a second, and then clattered to the floor. I grabbed it quickly.   
  
Amazingly, Grover stayed asleep. Percy blinked awake, though.  
  
'What—?'  
  
A woman coming down the train aisle looked suspiciously at us. I planted myself between her and Grover so she couldn't see his hooves. She carried on.  
  
Percy sized up the situation pretty quick. He dropped to his knees to help me get the plastic foot, with its scruffy trainer, back over Grover's hoof. Then he put a hand on his neck, massaging it. He looked troubled, like he'd seen something that worried him. I wondered if he'd had a dream like mine.  
  
'So who wants your help?' I said casually.  
  
'What do you mean?'  
  
I told him what I'd overheard him saying in his sleep.  
  
Percy was silent for such a long time, I thought he'd gone straight back to sleep. Finally, he said, 'I heard … well, it was just a voice. I couldn't see who it was, Hades, I guess. He was in a sort of pit and it was all smoky, like ghosts were all around. He said I'd been misled, and that we could barter. He showed me—well, he showed me my mom.'  
  
I thought of the woman in the glass ball in my dream. I hadn't consciously made the connection before, but I knew without a doubt it was true—Hades had Percy's mom. _After all, I have what he wants._  
  
It fit with Percy's dream, but also not quite. For one, I didn't understand the thing about the pit. Hades had been in his palace, on his throne. I definitely remembered a ceiling overhead.  
  
'He wanted the bolt,' Percy continued. 'He said I could help him rise, that we could strike against the gods. Um, the other gods, I guess. And he laughed and tried to tug me down.'  
  
Another thing that didn't make sense. If Hades wanted to barter with Percy, why wouldn't he show himself, strong and powerful on his Underworld throne? And the laughter …  
  
'That doesn't sound like Hades,' I said, shaking my head. 'He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs.'  
  
'He offered my mother in trade. Who else could do that?'  
  
Percy had a point there. Hades _did_ have his mom; our dreams both agreed on that point. And as Lord of the Underworld, he had the power to release her, if she was still alive. But we didn't have what he wanted in trade, and how would Zeus's lightning bolt help him rise, anyway?  
  
'I guess, if he meant, "Help me rise from the Underworld." If he wants war with the Olympians. But,' and here was the part that was most confusing of all, 'why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?' Unless it was a trick—maybe what Hades really wanted was something else, like Grover had suggested, and he was using Percy's mom as bait to get Percy to bring him … I don't know, maybe something that would make the bolt work. That might explain why his Furies were searching us, rather than killing us outright.  
  
Percy didn't reply. But there was a grim, determined look on his face that I didn't quite like.  
  
'Percy, you can't barter with Hades. You know that, right? He's deceitful, heartless and greedy. I don't care if his Kindly Ones weren't as aggressive this time—'  
  
'This time? You mean you've run into them before?'  
  
I felt a lump in my throat, thinking of Thalia. 'Let's just say I've got no love for the Lord of the Dead,' I said in a hard voice. 'You can't be tempted to make a deal for your _mom_.'  
  
Percy looked at me incredulously. 'What would you do if it was _your_ dad?'  
  
The question felt like a kick in the stomach. I thought of the last time I'd been back home, two years ago after my dad had written a beautiful letter enclosing his gold college ring—' _a reminder of the time I spent with your mother_ '—and pleading for me to come home, at least for a visit.  
  
My old room still had the cobwebs.  
  
The memory stung.  
  
'That's easy,' I told Percy. 'I'd leave him to rot.'  
  
'You're not serious?'  
  
I was jealous of the pure disbelief in his voice, the way he couldn't even fathom giving up his mortal parent. How incredibly lucky he was to have a mom who he could love that deeply. My experience with parents was quite the opposite. I'll admit my story wasn't as bad as Luke and Thalia's—from what they had told me, I knew their moms had actually been batshit crazy—but it was no picnic being the unwanted black sheep of the family, either.  
  
I still remembered all the little things that had tormented me. Even at seven, I'd known my dad hadn't wanted me, not at all, from the day Athena delivered me to him.  
  
I didn't remember _that_ part personally, of course, but I'd seen it in dreams, and a memory of my father and stepmother talking about it backed it up.   
  
_'A child, Janet, just like that. As if I could put aside everything and raise a kid when I'd just gotten the junior lecturer position.'  
  
'Couldn't she have done, I don't know, shared custody or something?'  
  
'Apparently it's just not done—heroes have to be raised mortal.'  
  
'Heroes. A five-year old.'  
  
'I wished she'd warned me about the monsters that would come after her. If I'd known …'_  
  
Percy was still gaping at me. It wasn't really his business, but I couldn't stand that he might be thinking me heartless and cruel.   
  
'My dad's resented me since the day I was born, Percy. He never wanted a baby.' I explained about his desire to send me back, his reluctance to keep me, the new family he'd finally got himself. I was supposed to be a miracle baby, a gift from the gods like in the stories. Only in the stories, when Zephyr sent the golden cradle to earth, it was always well received. I was the only unwanted demigod child.  
  
Percy was silent for a while. Then he said, tentatively, 'My mom married a really awful guy. Grover said she did it to protect me, to hide me in the scent of a human family. Maybe … maybe that's what your dad was thinking.'  
  
My fingers halted right over the gold ring on my necklace. I hadn't even realised they'd drifted up to it.  
  
Percy's view of things was so naïve. Luke and Thalia had taken my story as a matter of course. They knew what it was like to have parents who didn't care. _You're better off without them_ , they'd assured me. _They don't understand_. Maybe Percy had a horrible stepfather. But he still knew what it was like to be _loved_.  
  
'He doesn't care about me,' I said harshly, although my memory was now unhelpfully supplying me with fuzzy recollections of being flown about a tiny room like a plane, and taught how to read—a promise: _I know it's hard, but remember that you're the daughter of wisdom herself. You'll get it._ I pushed them aside. Dad had gone back on all of that when he married Janet and let her take over all the parenting duties.  
  
I remembered _her_ methods just fine.  
  
'His wife—my stepmom—treated me like a freak,' I said. I remembered Janet's unending exasperation at my learning disabilities, the notes I'd bring home from school, and the monsters that kept coming back, especially when my stepbrothers came along. She and Dad hadn't wanted me putting Bobby and Matthew in danger. I didn't really blame them—I'd felt so guilty for always attracting trouble.  
  
The spiders had been the last straw. They'd swarmed my room night after night, and alone in the dark, I believed that anything would be better than staying unwanted and forsaken in my household.  
  
I didn't share that part with Percy, though. The spiders were a little too personal.   
  
'How old were you?'  
  
'Same age as when I started camp. Seven.'  
  
Percy's eyes widened. 'But … you couldn't have got all the way to Half-Blood Hill by yourself?' He looked a little awestruck.  
  
'Not alone, no,' I said. I'd had my mom's guidance in my head, a voice telling me where to go, but I wouldn't have lasted long if Thalia and Luke hadn't found me. 'I made a couple of unexpected friends who took care of me …' Finding them had been the best thing that ever happened to me, but it was also a painful memory. Because it hadn't lasted. 'For a short time, anyway,' I finished.  
  
It had all ended in tragedy.  
  
I turned away, angry at Percy for making me relive all of this. I guessed he got the hint, because he stopped asking me questions. I looked out the window and watched the cornfields zip by in a teary blur, until my eyelids drooped and I fell into dreams where I was seven years old and running from my childhood monsters again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, recognisable dialogue comes from _Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief_.


	12. I Nearly Lose A Friend At A National Landmark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth ticks a monument off her bucket list, and Percy has a close call.

I slept through two states and a short stop in Chicago, which was a pity since I would have liked to catch a glimpse of the Sears Tower. However, our next stop was miles better. We rolled into St Louis under the Gateway Arch and from the time it loomed on the horizon, curving majestically above the whole city, I couldn't tear my eyes away.  
  
The Gateway Arch was one of those monuments that had defied arguments against its design and construction to become a proud city centrepiece. Its detractors had claimed it was useless, of no practical value as a structure, but here it was now, fifty years later, still rising proudly against the city skyline. I'd read that it was actually a memorial to the pioneer explorers of America, but seeing it in person, I felt it was more than that.   
  
In a way, all architecture was a shrine to some ideal, and those, like the tenets of civilisation, were founded upon the gods. Whether or not a designer believed, it was the gods who patronised their work, and most of all, it was my mother, Athena, patroness of crafts, who appreciated the labours of great architects.  
  
Creating a structure like the Arch was an enormous undertaking: it needed years of planning, developing painstaking blueprints with layers upon layers of design. But it was an investment that would pay off. At the end, your hard work _lasted_ for centuries. The Gateway Arch was one of the younger monuments, but there were structures across America that had stood much longer as evidence of their architects' ingenuity. And in the ancient lands, the ruins of monuments proved that the legacies of an architect could remain after millennia.  
  
I wanted to do that, too.  
  
'What?' Percy said, making me jump. He was looking at me curiously. I realised I must have spoken aloud.  
  
'Build something like that.' I gestured to the Arch. He looked dubiously up at it. 'You ever see the Parthenon, Percy?'  
  
'Only in pictures.'  
  
Okay, so had I, but that wasn't really the point. 'Someday, I'm going to see it in person,' I told him. I knew it would be my muse, the structure that would inspire a masterpiece. 'I'm going to build the greatest monument to the gods ever. Something that'll last a thousand years.'  
  
'You?' Percy laughed disbelievingly. 'An architect?'  
  
I felt angry. Where did he get off belittling my dreams? 'Yes, an architect,' I said haughtily. 'Athena expects her children to create things.' I glared at him. 'Not just tear them down, like a certain god of earthquakes I could mention.'  
  
Percy shut up, a wounded look on his face. Immediately I felt guilty. I thought of how desperately he seemed to cling to the notion that his parents were great. After a moment, I sighed.  
  
'Sorry, that was mean,' I conceded.   
  
'Can't we work together a little? I mean, didn't Athena and Poseidon ever co-operate?'  
  
The old story from the _Iliad_ , the book Chiron had given me, flitted into my head: Athena and Poseidon collaborating over the chariot. I hadn't thought of it since I'd first read it, but now I remembered, along with her saying, _Sometimes it is necessary for us to move past our rivalries, for the greater good._  
  
I told him about the chariot project. 'My mom invented it, but Poseidon created horses out of the crests of waves. So they had to work together to make it complete.'  
  
He smiled tentatively. 'Then we can co-operate, too. Right?'  
  
I wanted to say it had to work both ways--he still hadn't apologised for laughing at my dream--but that probably wouldn't be all that co-operative of me. 'I suppose,' I said.  
  
'We are arriving at St Louis Station,' a pleasant female voice said over the intercom. 'Passengers travelling onwards are reminded that there will be a three-hour stopover at this station. Thank you for riding with Amtrak, and we wish you a pleasant journey.'  
  
Excitement washed over me. We had three hours to kill and we were about five blocks from the tallest arch in the world. I knew _exactly_ how I meant to spend my time.  
  
OoOoO  
  
Percy and Grover weren't too thrilled about checking out the Arch, but I was too excited to care. I was glad we'd raided Medusa's cash register, because we had to add ten bucks from it to our leftover change from Gladiola's reward in order to pay for the tickets. I thought it well worth it, though. We had to catch the elevator up—a _curved_ elevator!—from the underground museum, which had a display on pioneer life in the 1800s. While we waited in line for our turn at the elevator, I drank in the panels that showed pictures of the arch being constructed. There was a wealth of information, more than the short paragraphs in my books had revealed.  
  
'Did you know it only took them _two years_ to build the whole thing? And they allowed people to _watch_.' Wistfully, I traced the black-and-white photograph showing a thirty-foot tower where spectators could observe the Arch growing before their very eyes. It had to be really cool. 'They even had radio shows about it.'  
  
'People must have been starving for entertainment back then,' Percy muttered.  
  
A smaller poster, skipped over by most tourists, showed a few of the early blueprints, along with several geometric equations the primary architect had used. I wished I had a pen and paper to copy it down. I had to resort to trying to commit it to memory.  
  
'Hey guys,' Percy said, pulling me away from a display on the construction equipment that had been used. He offered the cheerful thought that Hades might be watching us under his Helm of Darkness. How he could have got that from the displays around us, I couldn't fathom. Grover, already jumpy at being underground, shuddered.  
  
'Well, this should make you happier, then.' I pulled them along. It was nearly our turn at the elevators.  
  
Grover looked relieved at leaving the museum, but strangely, the elevator seemed to terrify Percy more than the idea of an invisible Hades hiding in the shadows. I figured he'd perk up once we started moving. I mean, how many times in your life do you get to ride an elevator that goes in a curved line? Even if he couldn't appreciate the physics of it, he had to be at least a little awed by that.  
  
It took us four minutes to travel up the curvature of the Arch. The three of us were squeezed into the elevator with a fat lady and her Chihuahua. There wasn't much to do on the upward journey except make polite conversation. Grover sneezed a lot, as though he had an allergy. I felt mildly disappointed. The experience would probably be lots better if they'd constructed a glass elevator so we could watch the earth curve away from us.  
  
The view from the top was spectacular, though. We were over 600 feet above the city and I could see just about everything, all the way to the other side of the Mississippi River to the east, and the whole of St Louis over to the thin streak that was the Missouri on the west. When I looked down, if I craned my neck, I could see to the feet of the Arch, so carefully constructed to absorb the full weight of the structure in the foundations. I marvelled at the fact that the carpeted floor beneath me was in fact spreading my weight diagonally downwards. It would be cool if I could look straight down—like if the observation deck was constructed with glass all the way around. There'd be no need for tourists to squeeze at the windows then, with panoramic views from every angle.  
  
I studied the design of the deck and then closed my eyes, thinking. There had to be a way to do it properly.  
  
'They're closing!' Percy said, tugging at my sleeve. 'We'd better go.'  
  
He practically dragged me and Grover to the elevator and pushed us in. He was about to step in himself, but the attendant on duty held him back.  
  
'Only four allowed at once. Next car, sir.'  
  
I moved to leave. 'We'll get out—we'll wait with you.'   
  
The other two tourists scowled at me. The attendant looked dubious; the next in line were a couple and their kid, who wouldn't have been able to all fit in either.  
  
'Naw, it's okay,' Percy said. 'I'll see you at the bottom.'  
  
It shouldn't have been a problem. It was only a three-minute ride down.   
  
Unfortunately, that was apparently enough time for trouble to find Percy.  
  
The elevator had just deposited Grover and I back in the museum and shut its doors behind us when we felt the tremor.  
  
'Annabeth,' Grover said, 'is that … an earthquake?' His eyes widened with terror. 'We should get out of here.'  
  
'But—' I looked at the elevator doors, which were still closed. I imagined the car was rising back up to where Percy was waiting. 'We can't leave without Percy!'  
  
The walls around us shook. A blaring alarm went off.  
  
'This is an emergency!' a cool female voice announced. 'Please make your way to the nearest exit immediately. In case of fire, the elevators should not be used.'  
  
Grover and I exchanged a look. As the foundations of the Arch shook around us, we raced through the throng of tourists rushing for the exit and burst out onto the boulevard.  
  
The good news: the Arch was still standing and the ground beneath us didn't seem to be quaking. The bad news: a column of flame sprouted from the Arch observation deck overhead.  
  
National monuments didn't just catch fire out of nowhere.  
  
'Grover!' I pointed up at the Arch. 'Did you notice anything in disguise when we were up there?'  
  
'Oh, no, no, _no_ ,' Grover wailed. 'I don't know. My nose was all blocked from being underground … there might have been …'  
  
I wanted to scream at him. But the truth was, it was _my_ fault we'd gotten separated. _I_ was the one who had wanted to see the Arch. I'd let Percy stay behind while we took the first elevator car down. Now he was trapped in an enclosed space, possibly with another minion of Hades—or worse, what if it was Hades himself? Percy had put out that idea earlier and I'd ignored it. It was all too easy to believe now that those could be the flames of hellfire shooting from the top of the Arch.  
  
'Okay, calm down, it's okay,' I said, though I was trying to convince myself more than Grover. 'Percy's smart, he'll—I don't know, there must be an emergency escape route. A set of stairs or something. We'll just find it and he'll be there.'  
  
Then something came falling out of the air, a tiny figure growing larger as it descended. It zipped over our heads in a graceful arc and plummeted towards the river. Grover and I exchanged another horrified look.  
  
'Oh gods, no.'  
  
We dashed across the boulevard. Cars swerved and blared their horns.  
  
Even though rationally, I knew no one could have survived a fall like that—the acceleration to terminal velocity alone would have been fatal—I couldn't help scanning the river. The surface gave no sign that anyone or anything had crash-dived in.  
  
'Percy!' Grover wailed. 'I'm a total failure,' he sobbed. 'I've gone and lost—I'll never forgive myself …'  
  
'Grover!' I shook him sternly, although I was tempted to plonk down next to him and start bawling my eyes out, too. 'Maybe that wasn't him. We need to look for him, okay?'  
  
I dragged him back across the boulevard. People had gathered to gasp and point at the flaming Arch. Someone must have called 911, because sirens were already blaring, police cars and ambulances weaving up the streets with flashing neon lights. Security staff circled a door at the foot of the Arch. A troop of firefighters went charging in.  
  
'Get back!' a police officer ordered. He started unrolling a ball of crime scene tape, roping off a wide radius around the Arch. We were pushed back with the other curious onlookers.  
  
There was a crackle over the officer's portable radio. A tinny voice announced, 'Explosion contained, four survivors, over.'  
  
'Survivors,' I said. 'See, Grover, it'll be okay.'  
  
Three paramedics ducked under the police tape and headed through the Arch door. The officer went back to yelling at everyone to get back from his crime scene.  
  
The next few minutes were a blur as we waited, ears peeled for any information on the police radio.  
  
'Three adults, one child, sending child down first,' the radio announced, followed by a burst of static.  
  
'There was another kid,' Grover said dubiously. Sometime during the wait, we'd grabbed hold of each other's hands and were clinging tightly, hoping …  
  
A firefighter emerged with an unconscious, sandy-haired boy of about five years old slung over his shoulder. My insides seemed to crumple at the sight.  
  
It wasn't Percy.  
  
I didn't know what to do. I'd never felt so helpless in my life, not even when I'd lost Thalia. At least then, our journey had been at a close. Now we were hundreds of miles away from camp, the leader of our quest was missing or dead—my mind kept arguing with itself on that point—and I had no idea what happened in that case. I'd told Percy a few days ago that the quest would end if he got killed, and that _was_ how things usually went, but failing for us meant that there'd be a war in a week. Did that mean we had to keep trying without him? Did we even have a prayer of hope at it?  
  
 _Please, mom_ , I thought, _tell me what to do_. And then, to a god I'd never imagined I'd beg, _Lord Poseidon … he's your son. Please …_  
  
I didn't even know what I was pleading for in my head. I squeezed Grover's hand so hard it must have hurt, but he was already crying really hard.  
  
At some point, we started walking away—I think it was right after they brought the elevator attendant who had separated us down—and wandering in the direction of the riverbank. The crowd had grown impossibly larger, with news reporters and TV crews having joined the fray, scrounging for a juicy evening headline.   
  
'Oh my Lord Pan,' Grover said suddenly. He let go of my hand. His head perked up, nose sniffing the air. I felt a wave of hope. 'PERCY!' He took off at a run.  
  
I caught sight of his tousled black hair a split-second before Grover slammed into him, almost bowling him over. Grover clung to him for almost a minute, half-laughing, half-crying. When he finally let go, Percy's green eyes locked on me.  
  
I wanted to be angry at him for putting us through the last half-hour, but the relief at seeing him standing there was too great. I wanted to hug him and smack him at the same time.  
  
I settled for a scold. 'We can't leave you alone for five minutes! What happened?'  
  
'I sort of fell.'  
  
'Percy!' So it _had_ been him tumbling towards the river. But how? 'Six hundred feet?'  
  
The paramedics pushed between us with a third survivor from the Arch fire on a stretcher. She was babbling away about a fire-breathing Chihuahua. I sucked in a horrified breath. That had to be a monster, no doubt about it. Though I'd yet to read about an ancient fire-dog. I remembered a Chihuahua in the skywards elevator, with that fat lady we'd made polite conversation with. The Mist must have warped things, though clearly not enough.  
  
'What—' I started to ask Percy.  
  
'That's the boy!' the lady survivor said, struggling against the paramedic's restraining hand. She pointed a finger straight at Percy.  
  
Percy grabbed me and Grover. 'Come on!'  
  
'What's—going—on?' I panted as we ran down the street, away from the Arch. 'Was she talking about the Chihuahua on the elevator?'  
  
'Not a Chihuahua,' he said, 'a Chimera.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'It was Echidna,' he said. 'This reptile lady. With, um, scales, and—'  
  
'I know who Echidna is,' I said. 'Daughter of Gaia and Tartarus. The mother of all monsters.'  
  
'Er, okay. Anyway, she set the Chimera on me. It burnt a hole right through the observation deck … hit the Arch, too.' He looked guiltily at me, like a kid who'd destroyed someone's favourite toy by accident.  
  
'Never mind that,' I said quickly. 'So you fell—six hundred feet—through the hole? And survived?'  
  
He shrugged. 'I prayed really hard to my dad?'  
  
 _Well_ , I thought wryly, _so did I_. I wasn't about to tell him that, though.  
  
'I'm glad you're okay,' Grover said. 'I'm so sorry I didn't sense it!'  
  
'It's all right, G-man. Turns out, I had a pretty useful swim in the river. I didn't know it before, but I can actually _breathe_ underwater. Cool, huh?'  
  
'No way!'  
  
'Uh-huh. And I met this lady—she said she was a messenger from my dad—and, um, said a bunch of stuff, but the gist of it was to go to the beach in Santa Monica. She was kind of insistent about that. She said my dad needed me to go there before I went to the Underworld.'  
  
'Whoa,' Grover said immediately. 'We've got to get you to Santa Monica! You can't ignore a summons from your dad.'  
  
While this was probably true—especially after we'd just prayed to Poseidon for help and got it—something about Percy's story was tugging at my brain, trying to make a connection. If only I'd been up there to face Echidna as well. I could have tried to get some answers from her about what Hades was up to. Although I had a feeling neither Grover nor I would have survived a fall from the Gateway Arch as easily as Percy had.  
  
Anyway, as Percy seemed to be the hot topic of all the news channels around St Louis, we all agreed that getting back on board the train was the wisest course of action. Amazingly, given all the excitement we'd just been through, we hadn't exceeded our three-hour stopover.   
  
OoOoO  
  
As we rolled across the flat nothingness of Kansas, I tried to make a plan. We would arrive in Denver the next afternoon and then, not only did we need to get to Santa Monica on less than twenty bucks, we also needed to figure out for sure if we were heading in the right direction with our quest.  
  
I still felt like we were missing something important, something that our entire quest would hinge on.  
  
I hoped the answers might be in Santa Monica, but that seemed a little too neat. Besides, I was a little afraid that when we got there, Poseidon would take one look at me and send me packing because of who my mom was.  
  
We ate in the dining car, spending the last of our dollar bills on overpriced soup and potato salad. It came on disposable paper plates and bowls, which was fortunate because Grover snapped them up, too, and I thought the train attendants might be a bit annoyed if their crockery got eaten.  
  
As we ate, I grilled Percy about Echidna and the river spirit, trying to extract every detail he might have missed. His encounter with Echidna seemed like she's actually been sent by Zeus—in retrospect, that sort of made sense, as he'd kind of encountered her in the sky. I cursed myself for forgetting that being up in the air wasn't the safest place for a son of the sea. About the river spirit, he just repeated that she'd told him to find the beach in Santa Monica, and not to trust the gifts.  
  
'What gifts?'  
  
'I don't know, she kinda disappeared then. I think the river was just too polluted for her.'  
  
'Exactly!' Grover said. 'That's what I've been saying all along—the real problem in the world is all the pollution!'  
  
'Not now, Grover,' I said, exasperated. 'Percy, tell me exactly, what did she say before she told you about the gifts?'  
  
Percy's face turned red. 'Just that I had to go to Santa Monica.'  
  
'There's got to be more than that.' I looked at him suspiciously. He was looking carefully away, twisting his napkin in his hands. I wondered, feeling a little annoyed, just what kind of spirit had shown up.  
  
'She reminded me of my mom, okay? And she called me "brave one." And …' His face went deep magenta, but when he spoke again, there was a tinge of pride in his voice. 'She said my dad believes in me.'  
  
That shut me up. I thought of my mom, telling me to make her proud.  
  
I guess we all wanted our godly parents' approval.  
  
That night, our last on the train, I hoped that maybe I'd get a useful dream, something that might help me put together all the clues we'd gotten so far. Instead, I got to be seven years old again.  
  
I was running into the woods, away from a large white mansion. Thalia limped along next to me, her hand pressing on my shoulder. It threw my balance off, and it was all I could do not to trip over the mess of tree roots underfoot.  
  
'Luke!' Thalia yelled. 'Luke, wait up!'  
  
He was way ahead of us and he didn't seem to be slowing anytime soon. My actual memory of this time was fuzzy, but in the dream, I knew that he was really angry and I thought it was someone in the house behind us who had made him mad, only maybe it was us because he was running off and leaving us behind.  
  
I stumbled over a patch of uneven ground and my knees buckled. Thalia and I both crashed to the ground.  
  
'Luke!' Thalia yelled again. 'Damn it, Luke, stop!' He was beginning to fade into the shadows of the trees and I was terrified, suddenly, that they would swallow him up and I would never see him again.  
  
I started to cry. 'Luke!' I screamed.  
  
There was a rustle of leaves and suddenly Luke was there, kneeling next to me.  
  
'Hey—no, Annabeth, don't—I'm sorry, okay?'  
  
I wiped my sleeve over my face, a little embarrassed. 'Are you mad at us?'  
  
'No, no! It's—look, I'm sorry, I just … my parents are kinda … it just got to me. I'm not mad at you, Annabeth, I promise.'  
  
Thalia punched Luke in the arm, hard. 'Jeez, Luke,' she said. 'I get that you've got issues with family—heck, we all do—but _chill out_ , man, okay?'  
  
'Sorry. I wasn't thinking.' He helped her to her feet, then held his hand out to me. I clung on to his hand even after he pulled me up, scared to let go lest he disappear again. 'Here,' he told Thalia, handing her what looked like a square of caramel. 'I scored some off my dad. I should have given it to you before we left.'  
  
'You're an idiot,' Thalia said, but she ate it.  
  
'Is it candy?' I asked.  
  
'No, it's ambrosia,' Luke said. 'Food of the gods. Sorry, Annabeth, you can't have any unless you're injured. It might make you burn up otherwise.'  
  
'S'okay. That was your dad? Hermes?'  
  
Luke didn't answer. Thalia gave him a nervous glance before saying, 'Yeah. Don't ask, okay, Annabeth? Luke's … sad.'  
  
I nodded. I understood not wanting to talk about dads. I squeezed Luke's hand.  
  
I remember we'd walked on for a long while, heading for our nearest hideout, and Luke had piggybacked me when my legs gave out. My dream fast-forwarded to that point, and I was thrown out of my own perspective, now watching the three of us hiking through the darkness. My small-girl head lolled against Luke's shoulder, dozing. Thalia and Luke were talking softly as they walked.  
  
'He knows something and he wouldn't tell me,' Luke said. His expression was hard and angry and completely unlike what I knew of him then. I hadn't seen that look until it was accompanied, three years later, by an angry claw scar across half his face. I never know he'd already had it in him when we first met.  
  
'Maybe he really can't,' Thalia said. 'There are rules—'  
  
'The gods make the rules,' Luke hissed. 'He just doesn't care.'  
  
Thalia was silent for a while. Then she said, 'The place he talked about … that camp place.'  
  
'I don't want to go.'  
  
'It might be a safe place, though. Aren't you tired of running aimlessly around? There's more and more monsters every day. And with Annabeth, now …'  
  
Luke's face softened. 'I just don't trust the guy. All the stuff about going to camp, being a hero. I should believe it, just because my dad, who never showed up a day in my life, suddenly thinks I ought to go and be a hero?'  
  
I didn't hear Thalia's reply. The woods changed, becoming more familiar, the sky lighter …  
  
I saw an older Luke—the current version, with his scarred but handsome face—staring pensively out over the canoe lake at camp. He was sitting with Silena Beauregard on the pier, their legs dangling off the edge.   
  
'… stupid fighting,' Silena was saying. 'Even my cabin's getting into it.'  
  
'Who are you guys supporting?' Luke asked.  
  
'Well, Aphrodite rose from sea foam. So I guess we're on Poseidon's side.'  
  
'And Hermes is Zeus's messenger, so that makes me on the other side,' Luke said glumly. 'The thing is … I think it's stupid, too. I mean, should we follow our parents blindly? Or make our own choices?'  
  
'That's really deep, Luke,' Silena said. 'I like it, though. One day when _I'm_ counsellor …'  
  
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. Although Luke didn't respond to it, I felt my face grow hot, like I'd witnessed something that wasn't meant for me, like when I'd caught my dad and Janet making out by accident when I was six.  
  
Maybe my dream sensed my embarrassment and got me out of there, because the next thing I knew, I was in Chiron's office. He had a prism set on his table, with a flashlight beam directed at it. In the rainbow filtering out from the prism was the multi-coloured face of a pretty girl with flowing hair. That is, her hair was literally flowing—it undulated along her back like the waves of the ocean. Her eyes had a familiar depth to them, although their exact colour was distorted by the shades of the rainbow and the rippling around her, which I realised wasn't just part of the Iris-message. She was actually calling from underwater.  
  
'… sympathies from my Lord Poseidon,' the water spirit said. 'The divisions in the camp have caused you inconvenience.'  
  
'To put it mildly,' Chiron said. 'But that is inconsequential. Regarding your message … I have heard no news since he and his companions set out. By the laws governing a quest, I am forbidden to initiae contact. Unless they call me, I have no way to relay the message.'  
  
'We will try to intercept him. My sisters are scouting the rivers inland, though they cannot stay long in any one. They will report back to Santa Monica tomorrow. Perhaps one of us may be successful.'  
  
'I wish I had known of this before they left. We could have given them more direction.'  
  
The water spirit shrugged. 'It is the nature of a quest to be winding.'  
  
'Yes, still …' Chiron massaged the back of his neck, inclining his head slightly as he did so. He seemed to notice my dream-self watching him from the corner. 'Annabeth?'  
  
I opened my mouth to greet him and ask if he'd been talking about us, but at that moment, there was a jerk beneath me and I was jolted awake as the train hurtled around a sharp bend. I let out a soft curse at the bad timing, as well as my own stupidity. If I'd realised sooner that I could actually communicate in a dream, I might have been able to speak with Chiron earlier.  
  
Too late now. But he had told the water spirit that he could talk to us if we Iris-messaged him. I decided that once we got to Denver, the first order of business would have to be finding a way to call Chiron. I wanted to find out what message he had for us, and if it had anything to do with the river spirit Percy had met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All recognisable dialogue comes from _Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief_.


	13. My Arachnophobia Is Broadcasted To Olympus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth runs into two creeps and her greatest fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is what earned the fic its PG-13 rating, because, well, creepy guys hinting at inappropriate things.

We found a run-down car wash in the heart of Denver and spent the last of our spare change—the mortal coins, anwyay—to get the spray nozzle going. As soon as the rainbow flickered in the fine mist, I made the offering to Iris and called for Half-Blood Hill.  
  
I felt a pang of homesickness as the view of the campgrounds appeared, exactly as it would look from the Big House if there were a layer of fine mist separating the back porch and the lawns. Then my heart did a somersault because instead of Chiron, as I'd expected, Luke was leaning casually against the porch rail, sword in hand. It had been years since I'd last done this—I'd forgotten I had to specify _who_ we were calling as well as where.  
  
'Luke!' Percy said.  
  
'Percy!' Luke said in surprise. He tilted his head to the side. 'Is that Annabeth, too? Thank the gods!'  
  
Sweat beaded on my forehead, though I thought it had nothing to do with the Denver heat. Luke seemed genuinely glad to see me—to see _us_ —but I couldn't help thinking of how I'd seen him with Silena in my dreams.  
  
'Are you guys okay?' He looked me up and down in concern. I was suddenly very conscious of the fact that my hair was a total rat's nest, that my clothes were a mess and I hadn't showered or brushed my teeth in three days. If the ground could just swallow me up right then, I would have been real fine with it.  
  
'We're … uh … fine,' I managed. I tucked a stray curl behind my ear and tugged self-consciously at my t-shirt. 'We thought—Chiron—I mean—' I didn't need a mirror to tell me that my face was flaming.  
  
'He's down at the cabins. We're having some issues with campers. Listen, is everything cool with you? Is Grover all right?'  
  
'I'm right here!' Grover said. He leaned over to give Luke a wave. 'What kind of issues?'  
  
I thought I knew. My brain helpfully supplied the image of a capture-the-flag standoff … followed by the scene of Luke and Silena walking hand-in-hand right after. I looked at Luke and saw her kissing his cheek last night. Now I _really_ couldn't meet Luke's eyes, for fear I might blurt out what I'd dreamed.  
  
Luke's explanation was drowned out in a blast of bass beats as an ostentatious blue car pulled up into the stall next to us, its stereos turned up to maximum.  
  
' _I'm Slim Shady, yes I'm the real Shady_ ,' it car screamed.  
  
'What's the noise?' Luke yelled.  
  
_Thank you, Slim Shady._ 'I'll take care of it!' I offered quickly. I yanked Grover with me. 'Grover, come on.'  
  
'What? But—'  
  
'Give Percy the nozzle and come on!'  
  
Grover threw the spray gun at Percy. 'Girls! I swear, they're more mysterious than the Oracle at Delphi.'  
  
'Shut up, Goat-Boy.'  
  
The guy in the next stall was one of those rich teenage punks, with spiky hair that was so carefully styled, I could see the layers of gel stuck in it, and jeans hanging so low that his boxers were practically on display. He wore a loose-fitting leather jacket despite the heat, and black Ray-bans. He was counting out change for the car wash in his palm. When he saw us appear, he immediately changed his pose, leaning casually against the hood of his car.  
  
'Hey, do you mind?' I yelled over the blare of Eminem's rapping. I gestured towards the stereo, trying to signal to him to turn it down.  
  
Punk-boy growled something back, but I couldn't make out what he was saying.  
  
'Turn it down!' Grover yelled.  
  
Finally, he leaned in and fiddled with a dial so that the bass beat became ear-splitting rather than earth-shattering.  
  
'I said, what's it to you, babe?' he sneered. His eyes travelled up and down my body, taking in my dishevelled appearance. It made me feel even more unclean, like slimy creatures were sliding up and down my bare skin. 'Not trying to earn some … cash, are you?'  
  
'What—no!'  
  
'You look like you've been down on your luck, babe. But no problem. I'm a generous guy. I'm sure we can work out some … arrangement.'  
  
Grover tensed next to me. 'Er, no.'  
  
'Are you smelling anything?' I asked Grover.  
  
'No—he's one hundred percent mortal. But I don't need to smell him to know he's also one hundred percent jerk.'  
  
'Hey, hey, who're you calling a jerk?' Punk-boy said. 'Babe, I think your little boyfriend needs to learn some manners.'  
  
'Okay, stop!' I said. 'Look, thanks for turning it down and all. We'll just be going, now.'  
  
We turned to go, but Punk-boy stepped out to the side, blocking our path.  
  
'Hey, now, what's the hurry? We were just getting to talking.'  
  
'No we aren't,' Grover said.  
  
'I'm not talking to you, loser.'  
  
'Okay, uncool, dude!'  
  
'Run along, kiddo. I'm just getting to know beautiful over here.' He put a hand on my arm. 'Don't you want some attention, babe?'  
  
What I did then was probably really stupid. Okay, it was definitely really stupid. If I'd even thought for two seconds, I probably wouldn't have done it. But I was frustrated, dirty, and tired. I hadn't had a good night's sleep in three days, and I'd just embarrassed myself in front of a guy I really liked. I was not in the mood to deal with a rich, entitled paedophile.  
  
'I'll show you attention!'  
  
I wrenched my arm out of his grip, whipped out my Yankees cap and vanished from sight. Punk-boy stumbled back against his car, like _whoa, where'd she just go?_ Then I unsheathed my dagger and flung it straight at the car's stereo system. At such close range, I definitely didn't miss.  
  
' _Please stand up!_ ' the stereo blared, and then it went silent. Punk-boy stared at the knife, which to him had just appeared out of nowhere, dumbstruck.  
  
I leaned over and retrieved my knife, then revealed myself, standing right next to Punk-boy, knife in hand.  
  
Punk-boy screamed like a ten-year-old girl. He dove into his car faster than you could say _Slim Shady_. The sports car zipped out with a deafening squeal of tyres.  
  
'Pan's pipes, Annabeth!' Grover cried.  
  
I put my knife away. My heart was going a million miles an hour. 'Oh gods,' I put a hand to my mouth, 'I can't believe I just …'  
  
'That was _amazing_.'  
  
'And totally stupid,' I moaned.  
  
'But amazing!' Grover said. 'His face—'  
  
'Oh gods, I didn't think, I just …'  
  
Grover held his hand up to me for a high-five. I started to laugh.  
  
'Okay, that _did_ make me feel better.' I slapped his palm. 'But I think I'll leave the crazy ideas to Percy next time. He does it better.'  
  
'Nah, you're pretty brilliant yourself.'  
  
I felt much more confident now, ready to talk properly to Luke. The conversation was already over, though. Percy was holding a dripping nozzle, frowning, his brow furrowed and his eyes dark with concern. Grover and I stopped giggling over Punk-boy.  
  
'What happened, Percy? What did Luke say?'  
  
'Not much,' Percy said, but he was carefully avoiding our eyes. Grover and I exchanged a look. It seemed like we had more to pry out of our friend.  
  
OoOoO  
  
I guess it was just my day for running into creepy guys. We found a diner nearby but we hadn't sat for five minutes when an enormous (and annoyingly loud) motorcycle pulled up at the entrance and its rider, a beefy guy with heavy shades and a bulky jacket, stomped in, drawing the attention of the entire restaurant. He made a beeline for our booth.  
  
After my encounter with slimy Punk-boy in the car wash, I wasn't thrilled when the biker slid right up to me and squashed me into the corner of the booth, up against the window. In fact, I was filled with red-hot rage. I might have repeated my stunt with Punk-boy if the biker hadn't said, 'So, you're old Seaweed's kid, huh?'  
  
The familiarity in his tone rang alarm bells in my head. My mother's cool, collected voice—calm even in the face of war—floated to the front of my mind: _Let your head guide you and not your heart_. I took a closer look at the biker. This time, I recognised him, and with that, I wrestled my emotions out of my uncle's control.  
  
Percy wasn't so quick on the uptake, though. 'What's it to you?' he sneered, rather like Punk-boy.  
  
I tried to cut in with an introduction. 'Percy, this is—'  
  
Ares raised his hand to stop me.  
  
'S'okay, I don't mind a little attitude. Long as you remember who's the boss. You know who I am, little cousin?'  
  
'You're Clarisse's dad,' Percy said after a long, hard look. Percy named him, and after that, I had the strange feeling that we were all experiencing Ares in different ways. It happens sometimes, with the gods. They exist on so many planes, in the minds of so many mortals, that their essence can sort of split even when they've picked a single form of appearance. Sometimes they can even appear to a single mortal while everyone around them goes about oblivious to their presence.  
  
That wasn't the case now—I was fairly sure we could all see him, biker helmet and all. It was more like he was having an individual conversation with each one of us simultaneously. I could tell because Percy and Grover both seemed to be responding, too, but not in relation to what Ares was telling me.  
  
What I heard was, 'Well, then, I came looking for Seaweed Boy; wasn't expecting one of old Grey-Eyes'. All hoity-toity like her, too. Blonde, though. That's different.'  
  
I bristled a little, though I was trying to hold my emotions in check. It wasn't my fault that somehow Athena managed to pass down a hair colour everyone associated with airheads.  
  
Ares laughed. 'I can see you now, trying to be all nonchalant. Your mom's the same way. She doesn't like emotions, does she now, Athena? But they're fun. War's built on emotions, kiddo. And speaking of war, you realise you're on the wrong side here? My sis is being her usual daddy's pet self, you know. And here you are hanging out with fish-boy.'  
  
'Sometimes we have to put aside rivalries for the sake of the quest,' I told him. It was what my mother had said. She _had_ to approve. I was confident that she would always have a deeper strategy for everything.  
  
'The _quest_ ,' Ares said, grinning. 'Oh yes, I know all about it. Good luck with that. Your mom couldn't locate the bolt, despite all her brains. Our old Dad put me on the case, too, of course.'  
  
'And you didn't find it either?'  
  
'Nah … but I had a theory. Your mom thinks it's codswallop, so of course Dad dismissed it, but at least my uncle—the salty one, that is—thinks I'm on to something. So his son here gets to do him a big favour and chase down my creepy uncle.'  
  
'So Hades _does_ have the bolt?'  
  
'Sure, wouldn't be a proper family feud if he didn't get involved, would it? You're the daughter of Athena, you oughta recognise a strategy when you see one. Nick something, frame your brother: BOOM, world war three. Old Skeleton-Head's an expert! Why, the last world war … that was maximum carnage. Of course, he doesn't have a kid any more, so he had to find someone else to do his dirty work for him—'  
  
'Who?'  
  
Ares looked unsettled for a moment, as though he'd had the information but suddenly lost it. He swatted the air around his ears like there was an invisible fly pestering him. Then his arrogant look returned.  
  
'Uh, that's not important. Anyway, my point is, I know you guys are popping down to the dungeons, so to speak, so I'm gonna offer you some help. But my cousin here's gonna do me a favour first.' He clapped Percy on the shoulder. Percy sank lower in the cushioned seats, but scowled back.  
  
'Why don't you go back and get it yourself?' he shot, in his own personal conversation with the god. Clearly they'd already got further into whatever task Ares wanted done.  
  
'What kind of favour?' I asked.  
  
'Nothing much,' my facet of Ares said. 'Just picking up something I left behind on a date. It's not far from here—Lakewood Waterland. Dropped my shield in the Tunnel of Love. In return, I'll get you a ride. Oh, I can see the boy's reluctant. He's a little punk, this one. I'd like to see how he keeps that smart mouth if I make him a prairie rat. I did one kid in Berkeley just the other day …'  
  
He cracked his knuckles and looked at Percy contemplatively, as though already imagining him in rodent form.  
  
'Please don't, Lord Ares.'  
  
'Huh. Bit of respect, eh? That's good. Well, you've got some smarts in that head of yours,' he said grudgingly. 'So you'll be smart enough to know what to do when a god asks a favour.'  
  
The sad thing was, I did. Ares was probably my least favourite of the gods, but you ignored a direct request from _any_ god at your own, very great, peril. Percy wasn't going to have a choice. Our quest was about to take a little detour.  
  
Well, we still had seven days. And if Ares was promising us transportation, that would solve a lot of problems.  
  
'Wait,' I said, 'we were just having three different conversations with you—did you tell us all the same thing?'  
  
'Oh, hm.' He considered for a minute. 'Yeah, I think I did the whole split appearances thing, didn't I? Strange, mortals don't usually catch it when that happens. But yeah, you all got the basics: Waterland, shield, go get it and be rewarded. Easy peasy. Now get to it!'  
  
Ares snapped his fingers and I was no longer squashed up against the diner window. The table in front of us was still laden with fast food. I took a long, calming sip of chocolate shake—a lot easier to do with Ares and his emotion-stirring aura gone—and hoped this side quest would be as easy as Ares had said it'd be. Somehow, I had my doubts.  
  
OoOoO  
  
To begin with, Ares's idea of 'not far' could use some revision. We walked for miles in the blistering heat. By the time we found it, it was late in the evening and we were parched. The place looked like it had been abandoned for centuries. Past the rusted barbed wire fence, it was full of buildings with peeling paint that stood with doors ajar, and water slides that didn't look like they'd pass state regulations.  
  
On the bright side, the gift shop mustn't have been closed for too long, because it still had stacks of souvenir clothing and merchandise, all free for the taking. It was the first stroke of luck we'd had in a while. I stocked up quickly, ignoring Percy's protests.  
  
He hadn't lived on the streets before. You took what you could find.  
  
The entrance to the Tunnel of Love was right in the heart of the water park, past the creaky roller coasters and attractions with tacky signs. Seriously, who named a ride 'Head over Wedgie'? Percy snickered when Grover read it out to us. I rolled my eyes.  
  
'"Thrill Ride of Love,"' Grover read. He snorted. 'That's catchy.'  
  
The ride sign was painted in faded capital letters, of which I could only make out the last word: LOVE. It was propped between two bronze Cupids, who pointed their arrows wickedly at us. There were a whole bunch of the little statues lined up around the entrance. The nearest one had something carved into its neck: Eta, the seventh letter of the Greek alphabet. I traced it thoughtfully. Had Ares left it as a sign?  
  
Maybe he'd meant to carve his name in the statue. It was the third letter of his name in Greek, which didn't make much sense—surely if you wanted to leave your mark, you'd leave your initial. But Ares wasn't known for his brains. For all I knew, he couldn't spell his own name.  
  
Through the Cupid statues, an algae-covered path led down to a canopy-topped boat that sat in an empty pool. A ring of bronze glinted up at us—Ares's shield.  
  
I had a sudden vision of Ares and his girlfriend Aphrodite sitting wrapped around each other in the love boat, except in my head, Aphrodite looked like her daughter, Silena Beauregard. The image of her kissing Luke on the cheek popped into my head again. My face burned.  
  
'Annabeth, come with me.'  
  
For a moment, it was Luke's voice I heard—which was embarrassing enough—but of course it was just Percy. Asking me to go with him. On our own. On the 'Thrill Ride of Love'.  
  
I had the sudden, heart-stopping thought of someone—like Luke, gods forbid—getting a dream-glimpse of that, the way I'd ended up seeing him and Silena.  
  
'Are you kidding?'  
  
He looked at me as though I'd grown a second head. 'Whats the problem now?'  
  
'Me, go with you to the … the "Thrill Ride of Love". How embarrassing is that? What if somebody saw me?'  
  
'Who's going to see you?' But he didn't sound too confident. He glared at me for a few seconds, then threw up his hands. 'Fine, I'll do it myself.'  
  
'Boys,' I muttered. Of course I had to go with him. But … he didn't need to state the obvious. _Come with me, Annabeth._ My heart did a little somersault. What did he need to say that for?  
  
It occurred to me that I might not be being exactly fair. Like when we'd met Ares, some other force was driving my anger and embarrassment. This didn't make me feel any better about it.  
  
I hopped down from the last step, onto the boat, and I thought I knew what the problem was. Lying innocently on the seat next to Ares's shield was a flimsy pink scarf—just your average female token. Percy picked it up, holding it to his nose. He inhaled deeply and immediately, a vague, scattered sort of look overtook his face.  
  
Innocent scarf my ass. I snatched it away quickly. 'Oh no you don't,' I told him sternly. 'Stay away from that love magic.'  
  
'What?' He stared at me stupidly.  
  
'Just get the shield, Seaweed Brain, and let's get out of here.'  
  
He came to his senses and reached forward to grab the shield. I felt the back of my neck prickling, as though an invisible, malevolent someone was watching me. My eyes darted around to the side of the boat. Another Eta was etched into it. One, before, I could write off, but here, again?  
  
'Wait,' I said to Percy.  
  
He turned, shield in hand. 'Too late.'  
  
'There's another Greek letter on the side of the boat, the Eta. This is a trap.'  
  
The bronze Cupids came to life, along with the pool underneath us. It started churning away like the missing water was rushing below, while a collection of thin golden threads shot out from the statues, weaving a net over our heads.  
  
'Guys!' Grover shouted belatedly.  
  
'We have to get out,' Percy said.  
  
'Duh!' What was with his stating the obvious today? I was already clambering up the path. The old algae slowed me down. Percy slipped and slid behind me, trying to get purchase.  
  
'Come on!' Grover hovered above the growing golden net, pulling against the Cupids' threads to create an opening. He wasn't having much success. The threads resisted, wrapping around his hands to stop him.  
  
With a loud whirring noise, all the statues' heads snapped back. Out of the decapitated Cupids, video cameras popped up like little jack-in-the-boxes. The entire pool felt suddenly like a grand stage, complete with white-hot spotlights and an invisible host crying, 'Annnnnd … we're going LIVE to Olympus in one minute!'  
  
As the hidden loudspeakers continued counting down the seconds to air, I realised exactly what the little Greek letter meant. 'Hephaestus!'  
  
'What?'  
  
'I'm so stupid! Eta is "H". He made this trap to catch his wife and Ares. Now we're going to be broadcast live to Olympus and look like absolute fools!'  
  
_Easy peasy_. Yeah, right. Easy, except for the massive trap set by an irate cuckold god who just so happened to be a genius mechanic.  
  
And then, things got infinitely worse.  
  
I'd been plenty terrified on this journey. The Furies were an old nightmare. Medusa had been horrifying. I'd been devastated when I thought we'd lost Percy. But nothing— _nothing_ —compared to the absolute terror I felt now when a wave of mechanical spiders came flooding out of the sides of the net.  
  
I forgot about Ares's shield, forgot about the cameras waiting to humiliate us on Olympus-TV, forgot everything except the only thing that mattered, which was getting away from the deadliest creatures in the world.  
  
Arachnophobia was the curse of every child of Athena, a legacy passed down ever since the ill-fated weaving contest between our mother and the arrogant Arachne. They tormented us mercilessly, seeking us out wherever possible, never letting go of the ancient grudge.  
  
My brain turned to mush in their presence. They swarmed me, skittering closer on gangly legs, pincers clicking menacingly. I screamed and tried to run, but my legs had turned to jelly with all the spiders trying to climb on them. I covered my face and sobbed.  
  
'Annabeth, help me! Do something!' I heard Percy yell. Somehow he'd gotten both of us into the boat and he was shoving spiders away from it, but he wasn't having much success. They were overwhelming in their numbers. The entire surface of the boat was a thriving colony of them. They would overcome us and I would die here, swallowed by spiders, prey to my worst nightmare.  
  
Percy leaned over me, covering me from them. He pulled a strap across my chest. Something clicked next to me. I screamed again. Or had I even stopped?  
  
_WHOOSH_.  
  
A colossal wave slammed down on us. The clicking of the spiders stopped. I lowered my trembling hands from my face. The canopy had been torn off completely. Our boat was tossing about in a whirlpool. The spiders sloshed off the sides, making little sizzling noises as they sank. Percy sat next to me, his hands held up like a magician's.  
  
Things started to make sense again—the boat churning on the rising water, Percy keeping us steady and afloat, the currents (wait, why were there currents?) carrying us towards a looming tunnel …  
  
We picked up speed and dived at an angle that felt as steep as a free-fall. I screamed again, but this time it was half from giddy excitement as the boat jerked us left and right. Next to me, Percy was yelling his head off as well. Ironically, we'd ended up holding each other's hands tightly on the Thrill Ride of Love—in front of a live Olympus audience—after all.  
  
Then we shot out into open air, still trundling along at top speed.  
  
'Unfasten your seat belt!' Percy cried.  
  
'Are you crazy?'  
  
'Unless you want to get smashed to death.'  
  
I looked up and saw that we were headed straight towards a chained gate. It should have been gold, but the paint was all chipped off so that it looked like a forbidding steel grate. Two boats lay at its foot, smashed up against it. We were about to become minced thrill-riders.  
  
'We're going to have to jump for it,' Percy said. I saw what he meant. There was no stopping the boat from its charge to doom, but if we sprung from our seats, there was a chance we could clear the gates instead, sans boat.  
  
It was a crazy plan, but completely brilliant, too, given the madness of our situation. Except I realised that he meant to leap right away. I thanked the gods my mind was clear of cobwebs—literally!—now.  
  
'No! When I say go!' If we went before we were close enough, the momentum of the boat would suck us downward.  
  
'What?'  
  
'Simple physics!' I formulated the equation out loud. 'Force times the trajectory angle—'  
  
'Fine, when _you_ say go!'  
  
'—between our current vector and the desired resultant vector, oh gods …' I kept a close eye on the gate, estimating, praying I'd got it right. 'Now!'  
  
We jumped, just before we could get stripped to ribbons flying through the gates. Our trajectory took us sailing over it, high enough to avoid getting speared at the top, but also high enough that we were now free-falling towards the ground with no clear plan for landing.  
  
Someone grabbed my shirt, yanking a bunch of my hair painfully with it. Our flight slowed. Grover, his flying shoes flapping away desperately, was jerking us up, trying to keep us from plummeting to our deaths. The three of us together were too heavy for the shoes.  
  
'We're going down!' Grover panted, his arms straining with the exertion of holding on to us. Percy and I clung to each other as we hit the ground, painfully but fortunately not fatally.  
  
We rolled off in different directions, breathing hard.  
  
'You okay?' Percy asked. He got to his feet first and held a hand out to me. I took it and he pulled me up.  
  
'Yeah,' I said. I was completely drenched, badly bruised, and let's not forget the complete arachnid-induced meltdown I'd had.  
  
Percy looked at me for a long moment and I was sure he was going to say something about the spiders, but he just nodded and dropped my hand.  
  
'Uh, a little help, guys?' Grover pleaded. He'd crash-landed through one of those photo-boards with little holes in them for your heads and was stranded in it at the waist. He looked like he'd traded his goat half for a whale half.  
  
'Sorry, G-man,' Percy said as we tugged Grover out of the board. 'That was rough. But you saved our lives!'  
  
'Yeah, thanks, Grover.'  
  
'Ah, shucks, it was nothing,' Grover said.  
  
We were silent for a moment, and then the sound of a mechanical arm made us turn back to the gates we'd just flown over. Twelve Cupid statues with video-camera heads followed us.  
  
Percy shook his fist at them. 'Show's over! Thank you! Goodnight!'  
  
I'd forgotten about the live show. I buried my face in my hands.  
  
_Great, just great,_ I thought. My humiliation at the hands of Hephaestus's mechanical spiders broadcast all over Olympus. Judging from the grim look on Percy's face, he wasn't too thrilled with the set-up either.  
  
'We need to have a little talk with Ares,' he said.  
  
'Let's go, then,' I said. The sooner we got out of here and back on our real quest, the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know they are twelve. I was really scratching my head trying to think of what might be going on during the car wash scene and my mind must just be a bit twisted with what I came up with. I'm not entirely satisfied with it, but let's just say that there definitely are creeps out there, and Annabeth probably looks somewhat older than her age? Anyway, the rating warning was for that bit, just to be on the safe side. (If anyone has any suggestions for an alternative scene, I'm all ears!)
> 
> Also, what do you think of the conversation with Ares? It's a pretty long exchange in canon, and I really wanted a different way to cover it, that didn't rehash what was already written in the book. Let me know if it worked for you (or not)!
> 
> While I've played around with that scene with Ares, any recognisable dialogue is, again, from _Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief_.


	14. I Make A Life Choice On A Zoo Transport

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A serious conversation on the road to Vegas has Annabeth reconsider some of the truths of her life.

I don't know what I was expecting as our promised ride to Los Angeles—a private car, perhaps, or at the very least a taxi. I certainly felt, given how we'd taken the fall for Ares in such a huge way, we'd earned it. What we got, however, was a massive lorry with caged zoo animals.  
  
Oh, and a backpack with fresh supplies.  
  
It was almost insulting. But I knew better than to quibble with a god—especially one who was a loose cannon like Ares. Percy wasn't quite as astute. He seemed to thrive on getting as much up in Ares's face as he could. He didn't seem to realise we were lucky to get away without being smited or turned into prairie rats.  
  
The lorry had 'KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT' printed on its side, which was a complete joke. It held a zebra, a lion, and a kudu, all cramped up in too-small cages. The smell of their droppings was overpowering. It was obvious that no one had cleaned inside for ages.  
  
Grover just about hit the roof. 'This is kindness? Humane zoo transport?'  
  
'We should let them out,' I said. I couldn't bear to see the misery in their eyes. The kudu, in particular, looked straight at me with its sorrowful eyes. It had a balloon stuck in its horns.  
  
'Er,' Percy said, 'maybe we should do that when we stop and can actually, you know, let them _out_. Of the truck.' He looked pointedly at the lion, who was pacing rather dejectedly, but still decidedly a carnivore. It looked longingly at the meat in the zebra and kudu's feed trays (who gave meat to herbivores?) Percy swapped the food around.  
  
He had a point.  
  
'At least we can try and make them more comfortable.' I reached into the kudu's cage and stroked its fur. Grover made soft crooning noises to it and it came forward and nuzzled its face against my hand.  
  
'Let me help you with that,' I murmured, reaching for its horns. Grover must have translated, because the kudu stood patiently as I used my dagger to cut off the ridiculous balloon.  
  
The lion, having gulped down the meat, curled up and went to sleep. The zebra looked pleadingly at me. Its mane was pale pink and clumped together. I realised there was chewing gum stuck in it. When I tried to cut that out, however, the truck lurched about and I nearly stabbed the poor thing in the eye. I came away with a handful of filthy zebra hair. It gave me a baleful look.  
  
'Sorry,' I told it. 'I don't think I have the steadiest hands at the moment.'  
  
Grover patted its face. 'We'll help you tomorrow,' he promised.   
  
I opened the backpack Ares had given us. There were clean clothes, but given the stench of the trailer, I thought I'd save them for when we reached our destination. He'd topped up our cash, too—dollars and drachmas—and thrown in a pack of Oreos. The kind of twice the filling. I broke open the pack and started in on one.  
  
Could it only have been four days since we'd left camp? So much had happened already: Furies, Medusa, a Chimera blowing up the Gateway Arch, and now Ares and his little Hephaestus-TV trap. I wondered if this was how a quest was supposed to be—crazy and confusing. Had Luke's been like this, too?  
  
That reminded me that we never had got to hear what Luke had said in the Iris mesage.  
  
I glanced at Percy. He was glaring into the sword. He'd kept it out because the celestial bronze blade provided a bit of light for us. I could tell he was still fuming over the Waterland trap, because from time to time, he muttered under his breath things like, 'stupid gods,' and 'not a show for them.'  
  
Just thinking about the whole debacle made me want to cringe. Percy hadn't said anything about my going ballistic over the spiders, but I remembered him yelling for me to help while I just cried and screamed my head off. I wondered what he'd thought of me then.  
  
And then he'd summoned the water and got us out of there. I felt like I owed him at least an explanation. And a thank-you.  
  
'Hey,' I said softly, 'I'm sorry for freaking out back at the water park, Percy.'  
  
He looked up. The bronze light of his blade reflected in his eyes, giving them a nice tint. 'That's okay.'  
  
'It's just … spiders.' I couldn't help shuddering at the word.  
  
'Because of the Arachne story. She got turned into a spider for challenging your mom to a weaving contest, right?'  
  
I didn't remember if we'd cover that in Greek lessons, but I was nonetheless grateful that he recalled the story. 'Arachne's children have been taking revenge on the children of Athena ever since. If there's a spider within a mile of me, it'll find me. I hate the creepy little things. Anyway, I owe you.'  
  
'We're a team, remember?'  
  
I smiled, remembering the first time he'd said it, after we fought the Furies. It had overwhelmed me then; now, it felt like just the simple truth.  
  
'Besides,' he continued, 'Grover did the fancy flying.'  
  
Grover was curled up on a sack. 'I was pretty amazing, wasn't I?'  
  
I laughed. 'You sure were, Grover.'  
  
Percy caught my eye and grinned. I was still holding the pack of Oreos. I split one in half and offered it to him.  
  
'So,' I said. 'Um, in the Iris message. Did Luke … did he really say nothing?'  
  
Percy didn't answer right away. He looked like he was thinking how to phrase things.  
  
'Luke said you and he go way back,' he said at last. 'He also said Grover wouldn't fail this time. Nobody would turn into a pine tree.' He looked at me cautiously. I hoped it was dark enough that he couldn't tell my face was red.  
  
So Luke had told him our story. Or enough of it, at least. I couldn't think how that had come up, but evidently it had. And Percy must have guessed it was a sensitive topic, because he'd kept it to himself. It was an unexpected level of astuteness from him, and it surprised me.  
  
There was a rustle from Grover's corner as he sat up. 'I should have told you the truth from the beginning,' he wailed. 'I thought if you knew what a failure I was, you wouldn't want me along.'  
  
'You were the satyr who tried to rescue Thalia, the daughter of Zeus,' Percy said. 'And the other two half-bloods Thalia befriended, the ones who got safely to camp … that was you and Luke, wasn't it?'  
  
He was looking straight at me. It was the part of the story I had left out, when he'd last asked me when I'd started at camp. I sighed.  
  
'Like you said, Percy, a seven-year-old half-blood wouldn't have made it very far alone.' I told him how my mom had guided me to Thalia and Luke. They hadn't been much older than we were now at the time, and they hadn't had any training at all, but they'd already been living on their own and fighting off monsters for almost two years. They hadn't complained about taking in a kid like me. I'd felt safe with them.  
  
They were a pretty formidable team. I found myself wondering, out of the blue, if maybe Percy and I could make a great team like that, too.  
  
'I was supposed to escort Thalia to camp,' Grover said, picking up the tale. 'Only Thalia. I had strict orders from Chiron: don't do anything that would slow down the rescue. We knew Hades was after her, see, but I couldn't leave Luke and Annabeth by themselves. If was my fault the Kindly Ones caught up with us. I got scared on the way back to camp and took some wrong turns. If I'd just been a little quicker …'  
  
I shuddered. One of those wrong turns had been straight into a Cyclops' den. But that had been trickery, not Grover's ineptitude. 'Stop it,' I said. 'No one blames you. Thalia didn't blame you either.' And if anything, it ought to have been _my_ fault. I was the kid they'd had to take care of, the one who had slowed everyone down.  
  
'She sacrificed herself to save us. Her death was my fault. The Council of Cloven Elders said so.'  
  
'Because you wouldn't leave two other half-bloods behind?' Percy jumped in. 'That's not fair.'  
  
'Percy's right. I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you, Grover. Neither would Luke. We don't care what the council says.'  
  
'It's just my luck. I'm the lamest satyr ever, and I find the two most powerful half-bloods of the century, Thalia and Percy.'  
  
'You're not lame! You've got more courage than any satyr I've ever met.' I cast around for something to tell him that would really prove it to him. 'Name one other who would dare to go to the Underworld. I bet Percy is really glad you're here right now.'  
  
In case Percy didn't get the hint, I kicked his shin.  
  
'Yeah, it's not luck that you found Thalia and me, Grover,' Percy said quickly. And then he picked up the ball fantastically. 'You've got the biggest heart of any satyr ever. You're a natural searcher. That's why you'll be the one who finds Pan.'  
  
It was the right thing to say. Grover, comforted, relaxed and dropped off to sleep.  
  
'How does he do that?' Percy said in amazedment.  
  
'I don't know. But that was really a nice thing you told him.'  
  
'I meant it.'  
  
There wasn't much to say after that. Percy knew the story now—the gist of it, anyway. It was impossible to really convey what it had been like those days. The memory was stronger than usual for me today because I'd dreamed about it so recently—the day after the a fire-breathing crab had burned our safe house, when Luke had brought us home so he could get Thalia's busted leg fixed up. The visit hadn't made him very happy, but he'd gone because of us.  
  
The monsters had set on us in earnest after we left. I remembered the constant running and fighting in the days that followed—not unlike our current predicament, actually—as we travelled north, playing keep-away. Luke had fought like a demon, cutting down monsters left and right. I'd hoped—I still did—that I'd be as good as him some day.  
  
He and Thalia had started talking about a camp—arguing the way I remembered in my dream. I'd nearly forgotten those arguments: Thalia in favour of finding a safe place, Luke hesitant because … because …  
  
 _Just because my dad, who never showed up a day in my life, suddenly thinks I ought to go and be a hero?_  
  
The trailer felt like it had dropped several degrees in temperature. I never questioned that Grover's orders had been to pick up Thalia. Now I wondered, if Hermes had meant for Luke to get to camp, why hadn't been on Grover's task list, too.  
  
Percy's voice cut through my rumination. 'That pine-tree bead, is that from your first year?'  
  
I looked down and realised I'd been worrying at my necklace while I thought. 'Yeah. Every August, the counsellors pick the most important event of the summer, and they paint it on that year's beads.' Our dramatic arrival had, of course, topped the list that year. My other four beads, fortunately, hadn't involved anything as tragic. 'I've got Thalia's pine tree,' I showed him, 'a Greek trireme on fire,' (Charles Beckendorf had crashed that into the surf the year he arrived), 'a centaur in a prom dress—now _that_ was a weird summer …' I still didn't quite know what to think about the time Chiron's relatives had shown up, intent on hosting a dance at the amphitheatre.  
  
'And the college ring is your father's?' Percy zoomed straight in to the one odd item on my necklace.  
  
I started to tell him that it was none of his business, to butt out, but then I stopped. Percy had already heard half the story from Luke. He hadn't even pried, until _I'd_ asked. Plus, he hadn't laughed about the spiders. I decided he'd earned the right to know. He'd proven he could be sensitive about this stuff.  
  
'Yeah,' I said. 'Yeah, it is.'  
  
'You don't have to tell me,' he said, showing I'd been right.  
  
'No … it's okay.' I told him about the letter from my dad, explaining the significance of the ring, and how it had persuaded me to try living at home again. The autumn I went back, I'd hoped that it would be different, that I'd really get to spend time with Dad and learn more about him and Mom, but Dad had worked as much as ever. If I brought up Mom at the dinner table, my stepmother, Janet, would change the subject, and Dad always gave in. My stepbrothers had found my knife and tried to play with it, and Janet had just about torn my head off for that, never mind that they'd been the ones getting into my stuff. Mormo—a vampire than fed on children—had come hunting for me and I'd barely managed to despatch her with my dagger … I'd gotten yelled at for that, too, of course. Janet never let me 'bother' Dad with my 'problems'.  
  
 _Your dad's busy,_ she was alway saying. _I'll handle it._  
  
Dad had given no indication that he even thought of Mom, let alone remembered her as fondly as he'd described in his deceptive letter. Maybe if Janet hadn't been around, it would have been different.  
  
One night, I'd finally cornered him and asked if we could go away for winter break, just him and me. He'd looked stunned.  
  
' _Don't be selfish, Annabeth. We're a family, right?_  
  
I'd called Chiron right after than and gone straight back to camp. My dad never came after me.  
  
Percy listened as I gave him the watered-down version of this. 'You think you'll ever try living with your dad again?' he asked at the end, as though the story wasn't over—just a little bump in a relationship that could still be salvaged.  
  
'Please,' I said, shaking my head. I looked at the zebra with the bubble-gum mane. 'I'm not into self-inflicted pain.'  
  
'You shouldn't give up. You should write him a letter or something.'  
  
I thought of the attempts my dad continued to make: the guilt gifts, the regular letters sent to Camp Half-Blood with news of my stepfamily—the family he wouldn't leave behind. Yet he'd let _me_ walk out of his life without hesitation.  
  
'Thanks for the advice, but my father's made his choice about who he wants to live with.' I didn't dare say any more. My eyes felt hot and heavy.  
  
Luke and Thalia had never questioned my decision to stay away. They understood what it was like to be abandoned by family. Not like Percy. _He_ wouldn't even abandon his mom when she was in Hades itself.  
  
For the first time, the tiniest shred of doubt crept into my head: just who had abandoned whom?  
  
'So,' Percy said a moment later, 'if the gods fight … will things line up the way they did with the Trojan War? Will it be Athena versus Poseidon?'  
  
I wanted to say that the Trojan War hadn't been as clear-cut as he was making it out to be, and if he had read the _Iliad_ , he'd get that. But then I sensed that this wasn't the real question he was asking.  
  
I thought about Ares's surprise at finding a daughter of Athena on a quest with a son of Poseidon. I heard Luke, in my dream, saying, ' _Should we follow our parents blindly? Or make our own choices?_ ' I saw Percy smacking spiders away from me and dragging me out of the Waterland tunnel.  
  
I lay down, pulling the backpack over to use as a pillow.  
  
 _We're a team, right?_  
  
'I don't know what my mom will do,' I said at last. 'I just know I'll fight next to you.'  
  
'Why?'  
  
Wasn't it obvious? 'Because you're my friend, Seaweed Brain. Any more stupid questions?'  
  
He shut up. I rolled over and came face to face with the kudu. It regarded me solemnly. I stared into its big, sad eyes and wondered if any of us really knew what we were doing. I fell asleep at last to the rumbling of the truck wheels beneath me.  
  
OoOoO  
  
My head slipped off the backpack when the truck screeched to a stop. I sat up, wondering sleepily if we were at a red light. The lion was roaring softly but urgently. The sound of doors slamming jerked me to my senses.  
  
'Someone's getting out from the cab,' I realised. 'Grover!'  
  
'The lion says we're in Vegas. There's a delivery stop here.'  
  
I didn't bother to ask how the lion knew. 'Wake Percy. They'll be coming to check the animals. We can't let them see us.'  
  
Grover shook Percy awake and told him. There was a loud cranking noise, like the bolts on the trailer door being undone.  
  
'Hide!' I told them. I put on my Yankees cap. They dove behind half-empty sacks of feed.  
  
Light flooded the trailer, momentarily blinding me. A burly trucker stood silhouetted in the entrance. He started checking the feed trays. I cast a desperate look at the feed sacks, where Percy and Grover were still half-visible. They'd be found the moment the trucker moved further in. I needed to make a distraction … from the outside.  
  
I slipped past the trucker and jumped out the door. The heat was intense. I hadn't noticed it getting warmer inside the trailer, but then I'd been asleep. We were parked in a run-down back alley, next to a giant dumpster. 'HARVEY HOUDINI' was spray-painted on it in large white block letters. The bright street beyond was busy with cars.  
  
I was stunned. I'd expected a zoo or something. Something was real dodgy about this whole transport set-up. Then I hurried around the side of the lorry and banged on it. There wasn't much else I couldn't think of to do, and I didn't have a lot of time.  
  
'What do you want, Eddie?' came a muffled yell from inside.  
  
The lorry driver stuck his head out of the window. 'Maurice? What'd ya say?'  
  
I kept up the banging. Eventually, the trucker Maurice came out. I ran back round to the rear of the trailer. I noticed one of the buildings lining the alley had a large door on it that looked like it was built for delivering bulky goods.  
  
Or crates of animals.  
  
'This transport business can't be legal,' I said.  
  
'No kidding,' Grover said. 'The lion says these guys are animal smugglers. We've got to free them!'  
  
Percy looked at us, then at the animals. He snatched up his sword, which he'd left lying on the floor between two feed bags, and slashed the lock on the zebra's cage with one firm stroke.   
  
The zebra was out in a flash. It paused to bow its head to Percy and nod to Grover, who raised his hands and bleated a blessing over it, then shook its bubble-gummed mane and took off down the alley and into the sunny street. The two truckers yelled and ran after it. I had the feeling that whether they caught it or not, we wouldn't be able to count on our ride any further.  
  
'Now would be a good time to leave,' I said.  
  
'The other animals first,' Grover said.  
  
Percy let both lion and kudu out. The kudu nuzzled me once before it raced off into the streets.  
  
We emerged from the alley and it struck me for real then, where we actually were. A long boulevard stretched as far as I could see, with big 'CASINO' signs every hundred metres. There was no consistent design scheme among the buildings: a gigantic pyramid guarded by a huge marble sphinx (Grover sniffed suspiciously at it) sat between a medieval castle and a glitzy modern hotel. An Eiffel Tower blinked at us from further down like it was having a seizure.  
  
We'd arrived right on the Vegas strip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A [kudu](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kudu) is a species of antelope. Percy doesn't recognise the exact kind of antelope in canon, but I decided Annabeth might have a bit more world knowledge. Also, I didn’t make up Mormo, she actually exists in Greek mythology and is said to be a companion of Hecate (according to [Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mormo), at least!)
> 
> As always, dialogue from canon is canon.


	15. I Build My Dream City In Five Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth, Percy, and Grover take an unplanned break from their quest that lasts a little too long.

The Vegas strip was littered with replicas of famous landmarks. I suppose I should have been thrilled to see so many of the structures I'd so admired in books and pictures in three-dimensional reproductions. But there was a feeling of newness to all of it that didn't sit right. Their perfect paint and loud colours made them seem like plastic mass-produced toys. They'd been constructed for entertainment and profit, not to worship at the altar of the gods, and it showed.  
  
Percy stared at a mini Statue of Liberty across the boulevard. Well, when I say 'mini', I mean compared to the original: this version was about twenty times our height, but I'd read that the original was nearly three hundred and fifty feet tall. From the photos I'd seen, the sculptor had got the outlines right. The torch in her right hand, the _tabula ansata_ , a tablet with scroll-like handles, clutched in her left, the rippling _stola_ —cloak of the goddesses—over her body. But it was the face that revealed this for what it was: a cheap imitation. Lady Liberty was supposed to have a stern, regal expression.  
  
This Vegas Lady just stared at us blankly.  
  
'The original's way better,' I said.  
  
'Did you see it before?' Percy asked.  
  
'No, but this doesn't even look like the pictures. I mean, she looks like she's forgotten her own name. She's supposed to look wise—I mean, she was modelled after Athena!'  
  
'I thought she was meant to be some Roman goddess.'  
  
I shook my head. 'Bartholdi was a son of Athena. A lot of the best architects are. He used his mom—our mom—as inspiration.'  
  
Percy's expression turned sad and I realised belatedly that talk about mothers probably just reminded him of his own kidnapped mom.  
  
'Let's keep moving,' he said. 'Find someplace we can sit or something.'  
  
We turned off the main boulevard, figuring that we'd have better luck finding a burger joint that wouldn't kick us straight out for looking (and smelling) the way we did if we got away from the premium tourist spots. It was so hot, the concrete sidewalks seemed to sizzle. I'd pulled my hair back into a ponytail, but it hung in a limp, sweaty pile and stuck to the back of my neck.  
  
'My fur feels like it's melting,' Grover said. 'I wish I could take off my pants.'  
  
Given the fashion statements some of the other tourists were making, his furry bottom half probably wouldn't have been a huge deal. But it wasn't worth risking the attention.  
  
We finally hit a dead end in one of the streets, right in front of a hotel shaped like a giant lotus flower. Unlike many of the others we'd seen on the main strip, this one didn't have a large courtyard out front. The doors opened right out onto the pavement, spilling out inviting, scented air-conditioning.  
  
'Ooh.' I stopped, drinking in the blast of cool air. 'Oh gods, that feels so good.'  
  
'Hey kids.' The hotel doorman was decked out in a green suit with pale pink trimmings. The fabric looked thick. I wondered why he wasn't melting, standing out here. Then again, maybe that was why they'd kept the door open and the air-conditioning flowing out. I thought he was going to chase us away, but to my surprise, he said, 'You look tired. You want to come in and sit down?'  
  
Percy, Grover and I looked at each other. We'd had more than enough close calls with monsters leading us into traps. Grover leaned towards the entrance while Percy stammered out, 'Um, actually, we were just …' and took a surreptitious sniff.  
  
'No monsters,' Grover whispered.  
  
'We'd love to,' Percy amended quickly.  
  
'Welcome to the Lotus Casino, then,' the doorman said, and ushered us in. We stepped across the threshold … and stared.  
  
I'd never been in a casino hotel before. Heck, I'd never even seen the inside of a fancy hotel, unless you counted the time I travelled with my dad to a conference in Boston. I didn't think it counted if I'd been too young to really remember it properly. I had no idea if what we saw now was typical: plush velvet carpets led to a glittering glass elevator that rose among golden balconies, which circled our heads in concentric circles. The ground floor was an arcade heaven—rows of shining game machines, and not just the car-racing and grabber-arm type, too (although those were pretty fun). There were trivia games and logic puzzles and all the kinds of quiz machines I could possible dream of.  
  
'Hey!' A guy in a loud, Hawaiian-print shirt waved us over. 'Welcome to the Lotus Casino,' he said, just like the doorman. 'Here's your room key.' He held out a tiny silver key. It dangled on a lotus keychain.  
  
It was tempting, but I was pretty sure the twenty dollars Ares had given us wouldn't cover a luxury hotel stay.  
  
'Um, but—' Percy started.  
  
'No, no,' Hawaiian-shirt said. He pressed the key into my hands. 'The bill's taken care of. No extra charges, no tips. Just go on up to the top floor, room 4001. If you need anything, like extra bubbles for the hot tub, or skeet targets for the shooting range, or whatever, just call the front desk.' Extra bubbles? Shooting range? What _was_ this place, some kind of philanthropic haven for lost kids?  
  
'Here are your LotusCash cards. They work in the restaurants and on all the games and rides.'  
  
I took the plastic credit card. It was the same shade of green as the doorman's uniform. The magnetic strip was silvery-pink.  
  
'How much is on here?' Percy asked.  
  
'What do you mean?' Hawaiian-shirt said.  
  
'I mean, when does it run out of cash?'  
  
'Oh, you're making a joke. Hey, that's cool. Enjoy your stay.' He grinned and steered us towards the glass elevator.  
  
It took a while to rise to the top floor. The elevator was exactly what I would have wanted at the Gateway Arch: made of clear crystal, it allowed a perfect view of the entire hotel as we travelled up. Some kid screamed as he rode down a massive water slide that spiralled around us. One corner housed a trampoline park, where kids bounced and somersaulted high into the air under a dome carved out up to about the tenth floor. I could've sworn the building hadn't looked so high when we'd stood on the pavement outside, but it must have been, because we went all the way up forty floors.  
  
Our room was the very first door. It opened out into the most elegant sitting room I'd ever seen, with green velvet cushions on a leather sofa that would easily have made the most comfortable bed I'd ever slept in. A flat-screen plasma TV covered one wall, which hooked up to a home entertainment system and a satellite box. The coffee table in front of it had a channel guide and remote control lying side by side.  
  
'Oh goodness, this place is …' I couldn't even find a word that properly expressed its splendour.   
  
I walked through one of three open doors that led to separate bedrooms. Inside, there was a king-sized four poster drawn with curtains of creamy beige silk. Plump pillows were piled up at its head over neat, crisp sheets. At the foot, on a fuzzy velvet coverlet, was a stack of white towels, topped off with a generous container of professional conditioning shampoo.  
  
A shower definitely sounded like the height of luxury at the moment, though testing out that bed to see if it was as soft as it looked came a close second. The bathroom was incredible, with a tub the size of a small swimming pool. Little shelves on the walls were stocked with every kind of beauty product you could imagine: hand creams, moisturisers, facial washes, even make-up. The Aphrodite cabin would have gone crazy over them.  
  
I soaked off four days of grime and stepped out in a plush bathrobe that was so soft, it must have been made from swan feathers. I realised that the spare clothes from Ares were still in the backpack with Percy, but that turned out not to matter because the bedroom closets were filled with enough clothes to last a year.  
  
Something about that snagged in my brain. I let it go. The clothes smelt freshly laundered, with a faint floral scent. They were a relief after a day of stinking like animal droppings. I picked out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that said GIRL POWER, and headed back out to the living room.  
  
The bar was fully stocked with chilled sodas and snacks. I popped open a can of ginger ale and settled on the comfortable sofa with a tin of Mrs Field's chocolate chunk cookies, flipping through the unlimited satellite channels. I stopped at a panoramic shot of a sprawling city of circular stadiums, marble monuments, and arched viaducts. It zoomed in to a middle-aged guy in a bright leopard-print shirt climbing a set of stone steps. He reminded me of Mr D, except without the pot-belly.   
  
'Ancient Rome had a very clever design of underground waterways,' the announced said. 'To this day, the hollowed labyrinth beneath the city stills stands intact.'  
  
The camera changed scenes to an underground cavern. Stalactites dripped from the ceilings like little fangs.  
  
'Once built, these underground waterways were rarely explored. The underground was nebulous place in ancient civilisations, associated with darkness and death. Conflicting stories emerged about what you could find underground: paths to the Underworld, or worse.  
  
'You see, the Romans believed in a fate even worse than hell: a pit that could contain even an immortal god. They called it Tartarus.  
  
'The idea begins a thousand years ago in ancient Greece. Their mythologies tell of battles among deities. Where do gods go when they are defeated, though? The answer: Tartarus, the pit of the gods. One of the earliest inmates of this prison was said to be Kronos, Lord of Time. In what could perhaps be counted as the first revolutionary war between gods and Titans, Kronos was overthrown and sentenced to Tartarus, limiting the time on earth to moving in a linear fashion.  
  
'In one version of this myth, Kronos's prison sentence has a limit. But what will happen when Father Time is freed? Will time cease to have meaning? Will all civilisation grind to a halt? We go next to a cult who were perhaps the first to foretell doomsday, to find out …'  
  
'I could really get used to this,' Grover crowed, drawing my attention away from the television screen. He emerged from his room in a strange combination of smart button-down shirt and cargo pants. 'Oh, veggie crisps, yum!'  
  
The television camera panned out to a wide shot of the Roman seafront and cut to a commercial break. Percy came out of his bedroom, also clean and dressed in fresh clothes. He looked at the television screen in disbelief.  
  
'All those stations and you turn on National Geographic? Are you insane?'  
  
'It's interesting,' I said defensively. It was just like him not to have any appreciation for the importance of knowledge. The stuff the show was talking about was important!  
  
Or was it? I blinked. Suddenly I couldn't imagine why I needed to know anything about what the Greeks or Romans thought about a silly pit and the halt of time. What was time, anyway? Nothing important.  
  
'I love this place,' Grover sighed happily. He had put Luke's flying sneakers back on. They took him on an airborne loop around the living room. His flight circle had a hypnotic quality to it.  
  
'So,' I said when he landed. 'What now? Sleep?' Rest sounded good … though hadn't we been sleeping all day in the truck to Vegas already? Our sleep schedules were probably all messed up from being on the move for four days. Or had it been longer?  
  
Percy and Grover rolled their eyes at each other, like _girls, what do you expect?_  
  
'Playtime!' Percy said.  
  
I had to admit, the idea had merit. The boys made a beeline for the action stations and the extreme sports (how Percy could still want to try a water slide after our Waterland Thrill Ride was beyond me), but I had been itching to give the quiz machines a go since I'd first laid eyes on them in the entrance.  
  
These weren't just any old Trivia Pursuit games. It was big time, high-stakes, Who Wants to be a Millionaire-level play. You inserted the LotusCash card and a whole stage set-up popped up around you, hot-seat and all, and there were a ton of game show options to pick from: Jeopardy, Wheel of Fortune and all that. Each had unlimited and unrestricted categories, too, unlike the real shows, so you could just pick the ones you preferred over and over again.  
  
I guess you're probably wondering why, with unlimited value on my LotusCash card already, the appeal of winning more money to credit it would be appealing. I don't know. It made sense at the time. Maybe it was just getting the answers right that made me feel really good.  
  
I warmed up with some good old trivia, did a few rounds of _Jeopardy!_ (I totally aced Greek mythology) and moved on to Who Wants to be a Millionaire (the million-dollar question was _which of the following motifs were incorporated in the interior design of the Hoover Dam?_ ). That made me wonder if there were any building games lying around.  
  
I found one in a deserted row between the grabber-arm machines and a deer-hunting station that Grover had glued himself to (when I say deer-hunting, I mean deers actually doing the hunting). It was the most realistic architectural modelling system I'd ever seen. You could design anything from simple structures (beginner level) to complex buildings (intermediate) and even entire cities (advanced). There were multiple modes of input for the blueprints: manual sketch, equation modelling, and line construction. The resulting architecture showed up automatically on a holographic screen. I could rotate the display to view my creations from every angle. It had maps view and street view and even interior view for individual buildings in a city.  
  
My utopian city was built of marble. I brought in elements of Olympus and integrated it into the modern world. A giant arch stood over the entire city (Annatopia, I was calling it in my head). It would follow the trajectory of the sun and I designed it like a prism to scatter light into a million dancing rainbows. Below the pinnacle of my arch, I constructed a golden temple built like an open-air pavilion, but with the marble columns curving at the top and ending in a criss-cross pattern that would deflect any rain that fell away from the temple hearth. I surrounded my masterpiece with a dodecagonal park of lush greenery, and raised a tower at each vertex: one for each of the gods of Olympus. I started to sketch out their sacred symbols into the towers.  
  
At some point, I became vaguely aware of someone shaking my shoulders. Annoyed, I tore my eyes away from the Hermes tower I was engraving. 'What?'  
  
It was Percy, looking extremely spooked. 'We need to leave,' he said.  
  
'Leave? What are you talking about? I've just got the towers …' I turned back to Hermes Tower. I'd messed up the winged shoes. I hit undo and restarted the sketch.  
  
Another irritating shake. ' _What_?'  
  
'Listen. The Underworld. our quest!'  
  
That sounded vaguely important. But I was so close to finishing Annatopia …  
  
'Oh, come on, Percy. Just a few more minutes.' I'd talk to him after I got the towers perfected. It wouldn't take long.   
  
'Annabeth, there are people here from 1977. Kids who have never aged. You check in, and you stay forever.'  
  
Again, what he was saying seemed vaguely important. And maybe slightly disturbing? Still, forever to build my city seemed like bliss. Yeah. Why would anyone want to leave?  
  
I told him this. Percy responded by clamping his hand around my wrist and twisting it away from the controls.   
  
'Hey!' I tried to push him away, but he dragged me away from Annatopia. 'Let me go!' I screamed.  
  
He grabbed my head in his hands. I would have used my free hands to throttle him, but his sea-green eyes stared straight into mine, startling me for a moment.  
  
'Spiders,' he shouted in my face. 'Large. Hairy. SPIDERS!'  
  
I saw them then, a nightmarish barrage of bronze creepy-crawlies racing towards us, followed by a gigantic tidal wave that sent them scattering.   
  
Spiders. Waterland. The zoo transport. Vegas.  
  
Our quest.  
  
It felt like I'd been submerged underwater and had just broken the surface for a gasping breath. 'Oh my gods.'  
  
Percy let go of me, looking relieved. Something he'd just said slammed back into my brain— _there are people here from 1977_. 'How long have we—'  
  
'I don't know, but we've got to find Grover.'  
  
We had to physically carry Grover away from his game. He fought us all the way. The Hawaiian-shirt guy who'd given us our LotusCash cards ran up as we were struggling to get a screaming Grover across the lobby, but he didn't offer any help.  
  
'We're leaving,' Percy said tersely.  
  
'Such a shame,' Hawaiian-shirt said, and held out another green credit card, this one with a silver border. 'We've just added an entire new floor full of games for platinum card members.'  
  
Percy hesitated. Grover made a grab for the new card. I smacked his arm down and pushed both of them towards the exit. 'No thanks,' I snapped at Hawaiian-shirt.  
  
No one tried to stop us, but the five metres we crossed to reach the doors felt like wading through honey. The air was almost solid in its resistance.  
  
Then a blast of heat slapped my face and we were all three sprinting down the sidewalk. Dark clouds churned overhead, giving the impression that we'd stepped into a large oven, but I didn't care. We'd escaped.  
  
'It's still 2006!' Percy cried in relief. He'd snatched up a paper from a newstand.  
  
'You gotta pay for that!' the newseller growled. I dug a handful of quarters out of my jeans pocket—the same jeans I'd been wearing before we entered the Lotus Casion—and shoved them at the newseller.  
  
'Thank Athena! What—' The blood drained from my face when I saw the date: June twentieth, the even of the summer solstice.  
  
I felt sick with fear and disgust. We'd been taken in so easily … we still would be if Percy hadn't snapped us out of it. And now we were out of time, with a few hundred miles to go and no transport.  
  
Everything was exactly as it had been before the Lotus Casino had sucked us in. We were back in merchandise clothing from the water park. Ares's backpack was slung over Percy's shoulder. It was as if the past five days had never happened. The only proof that remained was the plastic green LotusCash card in my hand.  
  
I stared at it and a solution began to appear.  
  
'Come on,' I said. 'I've got an idea.'  
  
I led them back to the main boulevard. I picked the nearest hotel and flagged down a cab taht was about to leave the drop-off bay.  
  
'Get in,' I told Percy and Grover.   
  
The driver looked at us dubiously.  
  
'Los Angeles, please,' I said in the most posh voice I could manage.  
  
'That's three hundred miles. For that you gotta pay up front.' He glared at me like he knew I couldn't afford it.  
  
I tried to sound like I did this everyday. 'You accept casino debit cards?'  
  
'Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through, first.'  
  
I handed him the LotusCash card. 'Swipe it.'  
  
We held our breaths. The metre vibrated and blinked like the lights on a slot machine. I imagined the numbers spinning just like they would on a slot reel, and prayed to Athena in my head. An infinity symbol came up.  
  
Jackpot.  
  
I breathed out in relief, and then straightened up as the cabbie gaped at me, trying to look like it was no big deal. His eyes held new appreciation when he said, 'Where to in Los Angeles, uh, Your Highness?'  
  
'The Santa Monica pier,' I told him, pleased. At least I'd managed to salvage _something_ from that blasted Casino. Then I thought of the five days we had yet to make up. 'Get us there fast, and you can keep the change,' I promised.  
  
He took off immediately, tires screeching as we pulled out of the taxi bay.  
  
'You,' Percy said, 'are brilliant.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this has got to be the favourite chapter I've written so far, which possibly tells you what an absolute geek I am. I'm not into architecture like Annabeth (so I can only hope I've manage to do her city construction dreams some justice) but I would totally have been into the trivia stuff!
> 
> Canon dialogue is, as always, from _Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief_.


	16. I Am Stretched To The Limit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth and Grover get a taste of a giant's over-hospitality.

Our taxi raced across the desert at top speed, but it was still a journey of several hours.  
  
'I gotta tell you guys something,' Percy said.   
  
'What?' I said warily. Those weren't words you used when you had good news.  
  
'I had a dream last night—uh, well, I guess it was five nights ago, now.'  
  
'Was it about—' Grover glanced at the cabbie and lowered his voice, '—Hades again?'  
  
Percy looked troubled. 'I don't know. It's all kind of fuzzy, after—well, after the Lotus Casino. There was a pit again, and the voice in it was talking to someone else … a servant.'  
  
'A Kindly One?' I supplied.  
  
'I don't know. I didn't see him—it—er, whoever. Maybe. The voice was familiar, I think. The servant said something about … oh jeez, why can't I remember this … a trick. Two things he wanted to bring to his master. And he called his master some sort of special title.'  
  
'The Silent One? The Rich One? Both of those are nicknames for Hades.'  
  
'Maybe …' He scratched his head. 'He knew I was there, though, in the dream. He showed me my mom again—she was in a throne room, but the throne was empty. It had bones, though—the throne, I mean. Black bones. It was really creepy.'  
  
'That throne room sounds like Hades's,' Grover said. 'That's the way it's usually described.'  
  
I should have agreed—I'd seen that exact throne when I'd dreamed about Hades holding Mrs Jackson captive. But what Percy had said about a pit was tugging at my brain.  
  
A cruel laugh, like nails on chalkboard.  
  
 _We have already found him. It has already begun._  
  
'Something's wrong,' Percy said. 'The throne room wasn't the main part of the dream. And that voice from the pit … I don't know. It just didn't feel like a god's voice.'  
  
 _Tartarus, the pit of the gods … In one version of this myth, Kronos's prison sentence has a limit._  
  
My brain didn't want to contemplate the idea that was trying to form. It was too horrifying. My face must have reflected some of this, because Percy's eyes narrowed.  
  
'What?' he said.  
  
'Oh … nothing. I was just—' I stopped. I really wasn't sure I wanted to follow my other idea to its conclusion. 'No,' I said. 'It _has_ to be Hades. Maybe he sent his thief, this invisible person, to get the master bolt, and something went wrong.'  
  
'Like what?'  
  
'I—I don't know. But if he stole Zeus's symbol of power from Olympus, and the gods were hunting him, I mean, a lot of things could go wrong.' But even as I spun out the logical possibilities—Hades's servant stashing the bolt or misplacing it while he escaped Apollo, Artemis, Ares, and my mother; Hades and his servant searching desperately for it after that, thinking maybe _we_ had it—I felt like I was still missing a piece of the puzzle. A piece that would fall in place if I dared to consider what the 'pit' _really_ was.  
  
It didn't matter. Either way, the answer was still in the Underworld. I had to concentrate on getting us there. We were out of time, and the Underworld was our only lead.  
  
'You have an idea what might be in that pit, don't you?' Percy said. 'I mean, if it isn't Hades.'  
  
'Percy … let's not talk about it. Because if it isn't Hades … no. It has to be Hades.'  
  
I wasn't sure I'd still be able to go through with this quest if I let myself believe otherwise.'  
  
'Look … the answer is in the Underworld,' I told him. 'You saw spirits of the dead, Percy. There's only one place that could be. We're doing the right thing. We just have to make a plan for how to get there.'  
  
'After you meet your dad in Santa Monica,' Grover reminded us. 'Maybe he'll have a gift for you, something to help.'  
  
'That's the other thing—the lady—the river spirit—said not to trust the gifts.'  
  
'Yeah, but if it's from your _father_ ,' Grover said. 'He'd want you to succeed. She must mean some other gift. Like the LotusCash cards we got. We shouldn't have trusted those.'  
  
'Yeah, maybe.'  
  
'We can't just hope Percy will find all the answers in Santa Monica, though,' I said. 'We need a plan. The Underworld won't be easy to break into. To start with, it's got five rivers surrounding it, and they aren't the kind you can just swim across. The Styx is the main one, but I don't know if we'll meet the other four as well.' I didn't know which would be the worst. They were all supposed to be really painful. But that was a pointless thing to ponder. I went back to formulating a plan. 'Grover—your shoes. They'll be perfect, since Hermes is supposed to lead spirits to the Underworld, and the shoes are from Hermes. Each of you can take one sneaker, and I've got my cap … I think there's a ferry for the dead, so maybe I can sneak on, and we'll rendez-vous on the other side.'  
  
'What then?' Grover said. 'How do we get past the guards? Do you know what they are?'  
  
'Er—not entirely. I only know for sure Cerberus is one of them—you know, the three-headed hellhound.'  
  
Grover whimpered. I tried to sound braver than I felt. Cerberus was the worst of the hellhounds and I already didn't have a great track record with those. 'It'll be okay. We just need a good strategy. Like capture the flag.' I glanced at Percy. He no longer seemed to be listening. He stared out of the window, looking grim and pale. 'Or maybe if Hades _thinks_ we have the bolt and is waiting for it, as long as we can keep him believing that we're bringing it to him …'  
  
I caught the cabbie's eyes dart to us in the rearview mirror, looking suspicious, and I realised we were talking about this way too loudly. 'We've got a role-playing game going on,' I told him.  
  
He shook his head quickly. 'S'not my business,' he muttered under his breath. Aloud, he said, 'Almost there, now, Your Highness.'  
  
A large clock tower on the beachfront showed seven o'clock when we got to Santa Monica pier. The beach itself was a bit of a mess. The trash of a million tourists littered the sands, aluminium soda cans carelessly discarded and plastic snack wrappers being carried out to sea by the receding tide. The waters were decidedly uninviting. An oily sheen hung over the surface.  
  
I turned to Percy. This was his stopover. 'What now?'  
  
He walked straight into the sea.  
  
'Percy? What are you doing?'  
  
He didn't answer; he just kept going, sinking lower and lower into the filthy water as he did so. I wondered if he was in some kind of trance.  
  
'You know how polluted that water is? There're all kinds of toxic chemicals that get dumped in the sea!'  
  
Grover grabbed my arm. 'It's okay—he has to go in. I mean, it's the sea, right? How else is he going to meet up with his dad? And remembered the river at the Gateway Arch? He was okay when he fell in, and that was from six hundred feet. Percy'll be fine in the sea.' He wrinkled his nose. 'Even if it's been polluted by you humans.'  
  
'Hey, I don't like it any more than you do.'  
  
I found a clean spot on the sand (not as easy as it sounds) and sat down to wait for Percy to get back, while Grover combed the beach for aluminium cans (pretty easy, since they were strewn everywhere). He plopped down next to me, munching happily on the stack he'd gathered.  
  
The sun was setting over the Pacific. I'd never seen this side of the coast before, and it was pretty spectacular, just the rolling ocean all the way out to the horizon. The sky was a glowing orange, reflected off the caps of the waves. The sound of the surf rushing up the beach was soothing.  
  
I played with the sand as Grover snacked on his can, randomly packing it together, digging around it. Without really thinking about it, I constructed a little town in the sand. It kind of resembled the suburbs of Richmond, where I'd used to live. I'd even made a little depression for the public garden where I'd used to take our Dobermann, Daisy, on walks.  
  
A long shadow fell over my sand-town. Percy loomed over us, completely dry despite his underwater excursion. The setting sun cast a golden halo over his head. In his open palm, he held three milky-white pearls.  
  
'I got a present from my dad,' he said.  
  
OoOoO  
  
I was sceptical about the pearls. Percy told us he hadn't actually seen his dad, just the same Nereid who he'd met in the Mississippi River.  
  
'She said to smash them at my feet when I need them, but she didn't say what would happen, exactly. She said it depended on what I needed them for. And that, er, "what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."'  
  
'Do you think they might be our ticket to the Underworld?' Grover wondered.  
  
'I dunno, but we should probably hang on to them. I got the Underworld address from Medusa's Emporium. We can find it. The pearls … well, it'll be good to have them as back-up.'  
  
I frowned. 'I'm not sure we should use them at all. No gift comes without a price.'  
  
'They were free.'  
  
That's what _he_ thought. Sometimes rewards had a way of coming _before_ the task—the trickiest kind, because once you spent them, you had to do it, like making a promise before you knew what it was. Besides, how many times had we already got into trouble accepting 'gifts' on this quest? From Medusa's dinner to Ares's ride west—all of them had cost us. 'No,' I said firmly. '"There is no such thing as a free lunch." That's an ancient Greek saying that translated pretty well into American. There will be a price. You wait.'  
  
'It probably won't kill us. The Nereid said the oracles foretold something … er, well, basically my dad doesn't want me to die …'  
  
I raised my eyebrows. 'You dad doesn't want you to die, period?'  
  
'Er. Not before my time, anyway.'  
  
I hadn't thought about the Great Prophecy since we'd left Camp Half-Blood, but now the talk about oracles brought it to mind. _A half-blood of the eldest gods shall reach sixteen against all odds_. Did this mean Poseidon knew his son was meant to fulfil the prophecy?  
  
'Anyway,' Percy continued, 'she gave me a warning, too. She said Hades was really tricky and would want to keep us in the Underworld, but I had to do what my heart says or lose everything.'  
  
I didn't really like the sound of that either. I remembered my mom had had some clear words on the subject: _Let your head guide you and not your heart._  
  
'Let's keep moving,' Grover said.   
  
Percy, in a stroke of brilliance I wouldn't have expected of him, produced a delivery slip he'd acquired from Medusa's statuary, with the Underworld address on it: DOA Recording Studio. Unfortunately, the Mist was so strong over it, the mortal bus driver we consulted couldn't figure out where it was.   
  
We wandered around West Hollywood, the only location identifier on the address, but there were so many of those, finding one called 'DOA' was like searching for the exit of Daedalus's labyrinth.   
  
One time, Percy stopped so suddenly I thought he'd found the place, but it was only an appliance store. Percy stared at the television in its display window, which was showing a news interview. The man on screen was dabbing at his eyes and mourning exaggeratedly about his lost wife and car. I didn't know the guy, but I couldn't believe anyone would actually buy the act his was putting on. I think I'm pretty good at reading people—when anyone you meet has the possibility of turning out to be a monster after your blood, it's a skill you pick up pretty quickly—and everything about this man screamed ' _self-centred fake_ '!  
  
A hard, angry look came into Percy's eyes. I didn't need the anchor lady's wrap up of the interview to tell me this was the awful stepfather he'd told me about. I found myself full of sympathy for Percy. I couldn't imagine living with this smarmy man. He had an oily, condescending sort of voice, and the way he hung onto the heavily made-up lady next to him while claiming to be devastated about his wife's disappearance …  
  
My stepmother Janet suddenly didn't seem so bad in comparison.   
  
We moved on. The shadows grew longer until finally the sun disappeared altogether, leaving us roaming under the dim streetlights. We huddled closer to each other as we skirted the back alleys, trying to keep to the better-lit areas. There weren't many. Most of the shops we passed now were dark and empty.  
  
At the mouth of one dark alley, a gang of six kids who looked like they'd fit in well in the Ares cabin circled us. After everything we'd seen, I wasn't too afraid of mortals, but you never knew which one might be a monster. I reached for my knife. Percy drew his sword.   
  
It sliced right through the gang leader.  
  
We looked at each other. I think we realised it as the same time—celestial bronze might be our defence against monsters, but it wasn't going to do much good against regular mortals with switchblades and maybe even guns.  
  
The downfall of being a demigod: you could die at the hands of monsters _and_ mortals.  
  
'Run!' Percy yelled, and we raced down the street. We were good runners, but we didn't know the area. Unless we found a place to hide, they'd catch us eventually.   
  
'There!' The store stood out sharply because it was the only one with the lights on.  
  
'Crusty's Waterbed Palace,' Grover gasped, but I couldn't care less what it was called. I tried the doors. Thank Olympus, they were unlocked. We ducked inside. The gang of kids thundered past.  
  
'I think we lost them!' Grover bent over, wheezing.  
  
'Lost who?'  
  
The voice was so loud, it seemed to reverberate around the room. Its speaker was a tall, bald man with a snake-like face. He looked like posters of that villain in the Harry Potter movies, except he did have a nose. It was upturned with wide, flared nostrils. He was impeccably dressed in an old-fashioned paisley suit, but the cuffs of his shirt had reddish stains on them.  
  
'I'm Crusty,' he said in that hearty, booming voice that didn't seem to match his serpentine appearance.  
  
I distrusted him immediately.  
  
'Sorry to barge in,' Percy said. 'We were just, um, browsing.'  
  
'You mean hiding from those no-good kids. They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them.'  
  
I wondered why Crusty sounded so annoyed, if he got more customers out of it. Then again, he didn't sound very much like the usual salesman. Until he asked if we wanted to look at his waterbeds.  
  
I wanted to back right out of the shop, but Crusty got hold of Percy and marched him down the showroom aisle. Grover and I exchanged a look. He shrugged and followed. I didn't have much choice.  
  
'This is my most popular model,' Crusty announced. He held his arms out wide and grinned at us. His teeth were lemon yellow. I winced.  
  
The bed he was promoting jiggled.  
  
'Million-hand massage,' Crusty explained. 'Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, anyway.'  
  
Percy started to object, but Grover leapt onto the bed.  
  
'Million-hand massage! Oh, you guys! This is cool.' He lay back, vibrating with the mattress, and sighed blissfully.  
  
'Hmm, almost, almost,' Crusty said contemplatively. He stroked his chin with one finger. Then he looked at me. 'Do me a favour and try this one over here, honey. Might fit.'  
  
 _What do you mean, fit_ , I started to say, but Crusty gripped my shoulder and forced me down onto a bed with a leopard-patterned bedspread.  
  
'Hey!' I reached up my sleeve for my dagger.  
  
' _Ergo_!'  
  
My fingers managed to brush the hilt of my knife before they were dragged away. Thin cords sprung out of the mattress like vines. They pulled my arms to my sides and strapped me down. More wiry cords secured my ankles. I fought against them, but their tensile strength was too great. I could barely budge.  
  
Grover gave a reverberating cry and I knew the same thing was happening to him.  
  
Why hadn't I attacked earlier? I _knew_ this guy was bad news.   
  
Crusty's face leered over me. 'Almost, darn it,' he said.  
  
For a moment, I went still as I realised just _who_ Crusty might actually be. Then I started struggling again in earnest.  
  
'Your friends are too short,' I heard. 'Got to make them _fit_.'  
  
There was a loud _shloop_ and something wrapped around my shoulders, under my armpits, and about my ankles. More cords, only these were thicker, more rope-like.  
  
They started to pull.  
  
There were many times in my life that I'd wished I could be taller—like when I was four and trying to reach the cookie jar on the top shelf, or when I stood next to Luke and only came up to his shoulder. As Crusty's ropes began to stretch me out, I swore I'd never wish for extra height again. It was just uncomfortable at first, a bit of a yank at my arms and legs, and then it became a relentless tugging, slowly dragging my body, trying to pull me apart.  
  
Percy was still free. I could hear him walking around with Crusty—Procrustes, rather, for I definitely knew who he was, now—talking about the merchandise. I hoped Percy remembered the stories about Theseus. I felt certain we'd covered it in my lessons back at camp. If he could get out his sword and force Procrustes down onto a bed …  
  
But he just kept chatting. I couldn't see what they were doing. My spine was tingling painfully.  
  
'Percy! What are you doing!'  
  
'Don't mind her, she's impossible,' I heard Percy say. Or at least, I think that was what he said. I felt like the waves from Santa Monica beach were roaring in my ears. My shoulders felt like they were going to be stretched right out of their sockets. Black spots danced in front of my eyes.  
  
It stopped suddenly. The cords burst, releasing the tension in my arms and ankles. My vision cleared. I was breathing hard and my muscles felt like jelly, but I was no longer being impossibly stretched.  
  
Never, _never_ , I promised myself again, would I wish to be taller.  
  
Procrustes was gone, though the floor around Percy's feet was splattered with blood. Percy cleaned off his sword. Evidently he'd finally gotten around to stabbing Procrustes and freeing us. Not a moment too soon. I think I would have passed out shortly enough.  
  
'You stinking, kelp-brained sea-cow,' I fumed as I got shakily to my feet. 'What did you have to talk to him so long for? We nearly died there.'  
  
Percy shrunk his sword to pen form. 'You look taller,' he said.  
  
'Very funny.' I glared at him. But after my initial outburst, I wasn't really that mad at him. He'd had to take on Procrustes on his own, after all. 'Be faster next time,' I grumbled, and left it at that.  
  
Percy grabbed something off an advertisement board and brandished it at me. Printed in bold black letters at the top of the bright orange flier was _DOA RECORDING STUDIOS_. A paragraph of text followed, and under that was a map of West Hollywood with a big star marking the studio's location.   
  
'Come on,' he said.  
  
'Give us a minute! We were almost stretched to death,' Grover said.  
  
'Then you're ready for the Underworld,' Percy said brightly. 'It's only a block from here.'  
  
He could certainly afford to be cheerful. He'd avoided the stretching beds. I snatched the flier out of his hands and turned it over. A folded brochure was stuck to the back.  
  
 _Get talent-spotted at DOA!_ it said. _What to expect at your audition._ It was covered with grainy photos and blurbs about the various checkpoints to pass before reaching the 'celebrity judges.'  
  
'Seems like the Underworld has downsized,' I said once I'd puzzled out the text. 'The good news is, their security force has shrunk. The bad news is, the guard dog still has three heads.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been saying this since chapter 5 or so, but canon dialogue is all RR's.


	17. My Experience With Dobermanns Pays Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth calls on an experience from her childhood to get them into the Underworld.

We planned as we walked.   
  
Percy didn't want to try the flying shoes.   
  
'It didn't work when Grover was trying to keep us airborne at the water park,' he said. 'One shoe might not be able to take our weight individually. I'd just as soon _not_ fall into the rivers you're talking about. I mean, I'm good with water, but that Styx stuff just sounds nasty.'  
  
I was okay with that. From what the DOA brochure had said, the ferryman took bribes. We'd cleared out Procrustes's cash register and added all the drachmas we could find to the bag Ares had given us.  
  
Cerberus, the three-headed hellhound guard dog, was another matter. Percy's bright idea was to distract him with a big stick—he'd cut off a bedpost at the Waterbed Palace—and run through when the dog was off chasing it.   
  
I didn't like it. But it was still marginally better than just pretending we had a lightning bolt and hoping that Hades would let us through unmolested. And there _was_ some evidence that some hero (Psyche, I thought) had done something of the sort before with a rice cake.  
  
The plan went smoothly enough to begin with. After a small hiccup with the ferryman's name (of _course_ Percy would mix up Charon and Chiron … though given that he actually _knew_ Chiron, I couldn't see how even a Seaweed Brain like him could be that dense), Percy managed to sweet-talk us onto Charon the ferryman's barge with a stack of drachmas and the promise of a pay raise from Hades (how he intended to follow up on that, I had no idea). We descended in an elevator not unlike the one in the Empire State Building, except we were packed to maximum capacity. It hit the water, but without a splash. That was probably a good thing, because the mist rising form it was enough to send a wave of despair rushing through me.  
  
'The River Styx,' I identified it. 'It's so …' _Dismal. Hopeless. Tormenting._  
  
'Polluted,' Charon sniffed. 'For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across—hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me.'  
  
I didn't see how anyone could help it. Many of the other souls on board were indeed dropping items into the river: rings, certificates, medals … I saw a pair of ballet shoes go floating away, released by a stick-thin girl with hollow eyes. The river seemed to leech all the good out of me, sucking out the memories of my greatest triumphs into its greedy depths. _What good will they do you now?_  
  
Without thinking, I slipped my hand into Percy's. It was as cold and clammy as mine. I felt better, though, like I was holding on to something solid, that the River couldn't claim. Percy squeezed my hand reassuringly.  
  
A loud howl echoed off the cavernous walls. Charon chuckled.  
  
'Old Three-Face is hungry. Bad luck for you, godlings.' He parked the barge smoothly on the shores of the Underworld and bowed to his passengers. They shuffled off in silence.  
  
'I'd wish you luck, mate,' Charon said, 'but there isn't any down here. Mind you, don't forget to mention my pay raise.'  
  
He pushed off with his pole and the barge navigated back down the Styx, through the bobbing remains of lost hopes and dreams.  
  
We followed the dead up to the gates to Erebus, which was laid out like a tollway with three queue lines under a black arch. Two were piling up, with people getting stopped at a security check and holding up the line, but in the centre one, marked 'EZ DEATH', the dead were passing one after the other through the metal detector with no issues.  
  
'What do you figure?' Percy asked.  
  
I watched the souls in the EZ DEATH line for a minute. They all looked resigned, like they weren't thrilled about what lay ahead, but had accepted it nonetheless. There was a hint of relief in their faces, too, though, like they'd avoided something nastier.  
  
'The fast line must go straight to Asphodel. No contest. They don't want to risk judgement from the court, because it might go against them.'  
  
'There's a court for dead people?'  
  
'Yeah. Three judges.' It was supposed to be Minos, Aeacus, and Rhadamanthus in the old stories, but the DOA brochure had updated information. 'They switch around who sits on the bench. King Minos, Thomas Jefferson, Shakespeare—people like that.' I explained the division of the Underworld, feeling a little tremor of despair as I spoke of the three Fields. If I died now, I'd probably end up in Asphodel. I hadn't managed anything heroic yet in my life.  
  
Maybe I'd even get assigned to Punishment, for letting Thalia get turned into a pine for me.  
  
As I was considering my own death, I realised that the black arch over the three death lines was not, in fact, inanimate. It was actually a gigantic Rottweiler.  
  
Usually, I like dogs. My dad used to own a Dobermann. Cerberus was a different breed altogether, though. His three heads loomed over each of the lines. Once he shimmered into view, he blocked the security check booths and the metal detector machines. The souls went marching right on through him—below his belly, around his legs. He wasn't just the guard to Erebus—he _was_ the entrance to Erebus.  
  
I swallowed hard and glanced at Grover and Percy. They hadn't noticed yet. Grover was pointing at a pair of security ghouls who had handcuffed one of the dead.   
  
Then Percy's mouth fell open. 'He's a Rottweiler,' he said, and took a step back. 'I'm starting to see him better. Why is that?'  
  
The more solid Cerberus seemed to get, the more insubstantial I felt, as though my physical body was dissolving into the mist that hung over the Styx. 'I think … I'm afraid it's because we're getting closer to being dead.'  
  
I wondered if we would _be_ dead in a minute. The plan was starting to seem more and more ludicrous.  
  
'It can smell the living,' Percy said, staring at Cerberus in horror.  
  
'But that's okay. Because we have a plan,' Grover said. It would have been more reassuring if his voice wasn't shaking.  
  
'Right,' I said. 'A plan.'  
  
We joined the EZ DEATH queue. Cerberus gave a deafening bark when we got close. Grover blanched.  
  
'Can you understand it?' Percy said.  
  
'Oh yeah.' Grover didn't look at all like it was good news. I decided I didn't want to know.  
  
Percy took a deep breath and extracted the makeshift stick he'd prepared. 'Hey, Big Fella! I bet they don't play with you much.'  
  
Cerberus snarled like he was ready to take our heads off.  
  
'Good boy.' Percy waved the stick hopefully. All three heads swivelled to stare at him. 'Fetch!' His voice cracked on the word.  
  
His aim was abysmal. I heard the splash as the stick joined the debris of lost dreams in the Styx. All six of Cerberus's eyes drooped in disappointment.  
  
I had a sudden memory of our old Dobermann, Daisy. She couldn't have looked more different from Cerberus, but his eyes now were a dead ringer for the baleful look she used to get when she was ignored. She adored ball games, I recalled.  
  
Maybe Cerberus did, too.  
  
'He's saying we've got ten seconds to pray to the god of our choice. After that … well … he's hungry.' Grover sounded close to tears.  
  
It was a crazy idea, but no more so than Percy's plan—which was completely botched now anyway.  
  
'Wait!' I cried, and dug into my Waterland pack. If I remembered correctly, one of the things I'd swiped had been … 'Got it!'  
  
The red rubber ball was still there. I imagined Daisy standing before me, tail wagging a million miles an hour, her big slobbery tongue lolling out in excitement.  
  
'See the ball?' I called to Cerberus. 'You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!'  
  
His head—well, heads, all three of them—cocked to one side, considering me. He really could have been Daisy now, trying to puzzle out my command.  
  
'Sit!'  
  
Slowly, Cerberus settled back on his haunches. I couldn't see his tail, but I imagined it thumping on the ground behind him, probably crushing a whole bunch of spirits in the process.  
  
'Good boy!'  
  
I tossed the ball and his central head snapped it up immediately. Left Head and Right Head growled and butted Middle Head, demanding their turn.  
  
'Drop it!' I told him. Cerberus whined but released the ball. It fell to my feet, covered with monster dog drool. I picked it up anyway. 'Good boy.'  
  
Cerberus barked and got to his feet. Between them, I could see his tail going back and forth like a pendulum. All three heads looked at me, eager for more.  
  
Well, I'd got his full attention and he didn't seem to want to kill me yet. I gave Percy and Grover a little push.  
  
'Go now. EZ DEATH line—it's faster.'  
  
'But—' Percy started to protest.  
  
'Now!'  
  
They started forward. Cerberus noticed and growled. I had to keep his attention.   
  
'Stay!' I shouted, and held up the dripping ball. 'If you want the ball, stay!'  
  
Cerberus's heads locked on me again. His eyes were hungry, but in a more _play with me_ rather than _I want dinner_ sort of way.  
  
Percy looked back and whispered, 'What about you?'  
  
'I know what I'm doing, Percy,' I told him. 'At least, I'm pretty sure …'  
  
I waited until Percy and Grover had made it past. Then I said, 'Good dog!'  
  
The shadow of Cerberus's tail wagged faster than ever. I could have sworn the heads were grinning, though it was hard to tell, with their massive jaws. I flung the ball into the air. Left Head got it this time. Middle Head made an immediate bid for it. Right Head howled softly. I took my chance.  
  
 _Don't run_ , I told myself as I passed between Cerberus's legs. _Be in control_.  
  
It worked. Percy and Grover were waiting for me before the metal detector, eyes wide in amazement.  
  
'How did you do that?' Percy asked.  
  
'Obedience school,' I said, feeling a huge wave of homesickness. Not that I would ever miss living with my dad, but Daisy … she'd been a good dog. 'When I was little,' I explained, 'at my dad's house, we had a Dobermann …'  
  
'Never mind that,' Grover interrupted. 'Come on!'  
  
A low, longing whine stopped us. Cerberus had turned around. I don't know how it was possible for a Rottweiler the size of an elephant to make puppy eyes—three sets of them—but he managed it. He dropped the ball, which was no longer round. Left Head's massive teeth had ripped it to shreds. All three heads looked at me expectantly.   
  
'Good boy,' I said automatically. His heads cocked to the right in unison. One paw lifted up slightly. 'I'll … I'll bring you another ball soon. Would you like that?'  
  
Cerberus gave a little whimper.  
  
'Good dog,' I told him. 'I'll come visit you soon. I—I promise.' I had no idea how I'd ever keep my word (maybe if I died in Hades's palace, he'd let me come through the line again) but I felt I had to give him something. I'd heard before that dogs couldn't be left alone for too long periods without going mad. Sure, Cerberus had crowds of souls passing every day, but when was the last time someone had played with him?  
  
I couldn't stop now, though. We smashed through the metal detectors, setting off a ton of alarms, but the DOA brochure had proved accurate. The Underworld was facing a staff shortage. There weren't enough of them to catch us _and_ man their security booths. It was easy enough to dash through and find a large tree to hide in. We must have faded enough to blend in among the dead because no one came sniffing us out.   
  
We plunged into the Fields of Asphodel. Cerberus's lonely howls followed me all the way, leaving me with an uneasy conscience. Somehow, it didn't feel like the first time I'd walked away from something without a backward glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RR owns all the canon dialogue (well all of it, but the recognisable dialogue is of course straight from _Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief_.)


	18. I Stop Hiding From The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio have a narrow escape and Annabeth stops ignoring the piece of the puzzle that has been trying to slot itself into her mind.

Hades's palace came into sight halfway through Asphodel. We stopped to look at it—this massive black fortress that stretched across the width of the Fields. It glittered softly and I realised that it probably provided most of the light in the Underworld.   
  
'I suppose it's too late to turn back,' Grover said with a sigh.  
  
'We'll be okay,' Percy said.  
  
'Maybe we should search some of the other places first. Like, Elysium, for instance …' Grover turned longingly towards the tiny, secure valley on the right, where the souls of the blessed luxuriated in eternal bliss.  
  
I took his arm and turned him back towards Hades's palace. 'Come on, goat boy.'  
  
Grover pulled away from me. He activated Luke's sneakers and floated up, only his body didn't follow his feet. He fell on his bum and lay in the grass.  
  
'Grover, stop messing around.' Of all the places to play a fool …  
  
'But I didn't—ahh!' He took off, screaming in panic. 'Help!'  
  
Percy lunged for him, but missed. The shoes had taken on a life of their own. They dragged Grover straight towards the palace, his arms flailing desperately. We raced after him.  
  
'Untie the shoes!' I called.  
  
We barrelled through crowds of spirits and burst out of Asphodel in front of the palace gates, but then the shoes swung right and carried Grover down a steep slope, into a dark tunnel. A stitch started to form in my side, but I couldn't stop running. Grover was already starting to disappear from view.  
  
'Grover! Hold on to something!'  
  
I heard scraping against the rocks and Grover's terrified wheezing as he tried to do as Percy said and grab hold of the tunnel walls. We plunged deeper into the darkness, which seemed to constrict around us like it was alive. My hair stood up on end and it wasn't just because the temperature had dropped ten degrees.  
  
Grover came into sight again at the edge of a sharp drop-off. He clawed desperately at the ground, scrambling for purchase against the power of the flying shoes. Percy came to a halt at the sight of the cliff, which opened up into an even darker, deeper pit.  
  
It looked different from the cliff I'd seen in my dream long ago at the winter solstice, but somehow I knew it was the same. The evil voice that had spoken to me from below the mist lived here. And although Percy hadn't described the pit in his dreams all that well, I knew instinctively that this was it.  
  
There was, ultimately, only one pit that mattered.  
  
There wasn't time to think of all that, though. Grover was still fighting tooth and nail to keep from falling in.  
  
'Come on, Percy!' I jerked him forward.  
  
'But that's—'  
  
'I know! The place you described in your dream! But Grover's going to fall if we don't catch him.'  
  
We wouldn't have got there in time if Grover hadn't managed to kick one shoe off. The remaining shoe, just as Percy had predicted, wasn't strong enough to carry Grover's weight, especially not once he managed to wrap his arms around a rock. It gave us enough time to catch up. We hauled him away from the cliff edge, slapping at the shoe, which had also come off and was now trying to kick us in the face. It finally took off and disappeared into the pit.  
  
I felt like crying. The magic shoes … Hermes's flying sneakers … Luke's present. How could they, of all things, have gone nuts?  
  
Grover sniffled. 'I don't know how … I didn't …'  
  
Percy held up a hand. 'Wait. Listen.'  
  
I thought I heard the cold, spine-tingling laughter from my nightmares. Then a low, malevolent chanting rose from the pit. It had no words I could have possibly recognised—not Greek, not English, not any language I'd ever heard—but which I somehow understood to be a deep, ancient tongue.  
  
'Percy, this place—' I started to say shakily. It was the idea my brain didn't want to entertain before, the conclusion it still didn't want to reach although we were standing right her, giving me no choice.  
  
'Shh,' he said.  
  
'Wh—what's that noise?' Grover moaned.  
  
'Tartarus. The entrance to Tartarus.' I wanted to stress how important it was that we leave, _now_ , but my voice failed me.  
  
Percy drew his sword. The light of its bronze blade winked at me, giving me courage. My hand flew up my sleeve. My bronze dagger felt warm under my hand.  
  
'We have to get out of here,' I said firmly.  
  
It was harder than breaking out of the Lotus Casino. The pit had a magnetic force and we were like scrap metal being enticed to its depths. I would have collapsed and given up and let it suck me in, if it hadn't been for the bracing glow of my dagger against my arm. It centred me, reminding me I had to struggle on. Beside me, Percy was using his sword like a hiking pole, using it to force himself on. Grover had a look of pure determination on his face.   
  
Our hands found each other. Together, we found the strength to stumble forward until the Fields of Asphodel came into view again. The wind that had been tearing at our backs like a vacuum cleaner died. A cheated howl followed us up.  
  
'What _was_ that?' Grover gasped. 'One of Hades's pets?'  
  
Percy looked at me. I couldn't respond, although my mind had finally, reluctantly, put together the pieces. Talking about it would make it real, and I felt like if I had to accept that, I'd sit right down in the Fields of Asphodel and become one of the blind, unknowing souls.  
  
I think Percy got the picture, because he didn't push it. He put his sword away and said, 'Let's keep going.'  
  
We limped through the palace gates painted with scenes of doom, past Persephone's orchard garden with its eternally blooming pomegranates, into the skeleton-guarded fortress. They leapt aside on our arrival, the palace doors sweeping open. I guess I'd been right about Hades wanting us to get there. I tried not to think about what would happen when he discovered that we _didn't_ have what he wanted.  
  
Hades was waiting on his throne, looking just like I'd seen him in my dreams. His posture was relaxed but at the same time, there was an underlying tension to his form, like a coiled spring ready to burst if we pressed the wrong button. His fathomless black eyes regarded us coldly. I had the feeling he'd observed every moment of our journey through the Underworld—including our side trip to the edge of Tartarus.  
  
The fact that he seemed unbothered by it actually made me feel better. Between Hades and the Titan churning in the pit, I'd take Hades.   
  
I guess that was testament to just how terrifying the ancient voice had felt. Hades had been scary enough the last time I'd seen him, with his Helm of Darkness smouldering fear from his feet. I couldn't see the magic helmet now, but that didn't mean much. It was an invisibility hat much more powerful than my Yankees cap.  
  
Hades spoke at last. 'You are brave to come here, Son of Poseidon. After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish.'  
  
If Percy was as bemused as I was about this statement, he didn't show it. Fortunately, he stayed respectful. 'Lord and Uncle, I come with two requests.'  
  
Hades leaned forward. 'Only two requests? Arrogant child. As if you have not already taken enough. Speak, then. It amuses me not to strike you dead yet.'  
  
Percy seemed to lose his nerve then. He gulped and looked away from Hades at the accompanying throne—this one smaller, also made of obsidian and inlaid with diamonds, but without the bones beneath it. Persephone's winter seat.  
  
Seconds ticked by. Hades waited, but he would not stay patient for long. I poked Percy and cleared my throat meaningfully.  
  
'Lord Hades …' Percy stammered quickly, then got back on track. 'Look, sir, there can't be a war among the gods. It would be … bad.'  
  
'Really bad,' Grover chimed in.  
  
'Return Zeus's master bolt to me. Please, sir, let me carry it to Olympus.' Percy's fingers drummed nervously against his thighs. I crossed mine behind my back, hoping.  
  
'You dare keep up this pretence, after what you have done?' Hades didn't exactly raise his voice. He remained languidly in his seat. But the entire room seemed to vibrate with his anger.  
  
What _had_ we done? That was the crux of the matter, I realised, the missing piece to the mystery that had been unfolding since the Kindly Ones had descended on us in the bus back in New York, screaming, _where is it?_  
  
I had the feeling that we were about to find out.  
  
'Um … Uncle, you keep saying "after what I've done,"' Percy said hesitantly. 'What exactly have I done?'  
  
The angry vibration exploded into an earthquake that dislodged rock and dust from the palace ceiling. The effect was compounded by the thunderous march of the skeleton guards from the outer perimeters into the room, weapons raised threateningly.  
  
'Do you think I _want_ war, godling?' _Now_ his voice was raised. He spread his arms as if to say, _look at this_.  
  
'You are the Lord of the Dead. A war would expand your kingdom, right?' Percy said. I had to give him credit for how steady he managed to keep his voice. Hades looked ready to shoot bolts from his eyes. Or perhaps just snap his fingers and have his skeleton guards crush us into dust.  
  
Hades snorted. 'A typical thing for my brothers to say! Do you think I need more subjects? Did you not see the sprawl of Asphodel? Have you any idea how much my kingdom has swollen in this past century alone?' He went on into a long rant about his manpower issues, overpopulation and congestion problems, and the ridiculous expenses of over-expansion.  
  
I thought of the DOA brochure: _downsizing in the Underworld has reduced the number of staff at major security checkpoints._  
  
'And the dead just keep arriving! _No_ , godling, I need no help getting subjects. _I_ did not ask for this war.'  
  
I hoped that meant he wouldn't be so keen to kill us and add to his inflated population.  
  
'But you took Zeus's master bolt,' Percy said stupidly. I felt like kicking him. It seemed obvious at this point that Hades wasn't our thief.  
  
'Lies!' Hades was so incensed, he actually got to his feet and started advancing on us. 'Your father may fool Zeus, boy, but I am not so stupid. I see his plan.'  
  
'His plan?'  
  
' _You_ were the thief on the winter solstice. Your father thought to keep you his little secret. He directed you into the throne room on Olympus. You took the master bolt _and_ my helmet.' He continued to harangue Percy, but one point stuck out like a red flag.  
  
His helmet. I inhaled sharply.  
  
'But … Lord Hades, your helmet of darkness is missing, too?' I blurted out.  
  
So it wasn't just invisible—the Helm of Darkness really wasn't here, and hadn't been since the winter solstice. How could it be, though? Chiron hadn't given any indication whatsoever that anything else had been stolen.  
  
'Do not play the innocent with me, girl!' Hades roared. 'You and the satyr have been helping this hero—coming here to threaten me in Poseidon's name, no doubt—to bring me an ultimatum. Does Poseidon think I can be blackmailed into supporting him?'  
  
'No!' Percy protested. 'Poseidon didn't—I didn't—'  
  
'I have said nothing of the helmet's disappearance, because I had no illusions that anyone on Olympus would offer me the slightest justice, the slightest help.' Hades was pacing the floor in front of us now as he revealed how he'd tried to capture Percy until it was clear Percy was coming anyway.  
  
My heart dropped to the region of my ankles, but it wasn't because of the threats Hades started to make about sending a legion of dead warriors on to earth make war, or even the back-and-forth argument that Percy idiotically picked with Hades then— _give it back/I don't have it!_  
  
I couldn't run from the terrifying conclusion any longer. The voice in the pit wanted two items brought to him. Two great symbols of power were missing.  
  
 _Remember, this was the bolt that defeated the King of the Titans himself._  
  
 _Kronos_ , my mind supplied, _the father of the gods_. I felt like vomiting.  
  
And he had a servant. Someone had carried out his bidding but failed to deliver. It wasn't Percy, I knew that. But there _had_ been a group of half-bloods on Mount Olympus at the winter solstice. I wondered why the finger of blame hadn't descended on us earlier.  
  
My mother had bene right. _You must uncover the truth. I told you before that you would need to see clearly, to look past your emotions._ The three Olympian brothers had been fixated on their rivalries, convinced that one of the others must be the culprit, so much so that they had targeted Percy, as the only known son among them. It had blinded them to the possibility of someone else orchestrating the entire debacle.  
  
My own fear had kept me from seizing on the terrifying truth as well. It had been so much easier to convince myself and the others that Hades was the mastermind, like Chiron had deduced, because I didn't want to believe that a primordial force was awakening in Tartarus, planning his rise to power.  
  
Percy and Hades continued to argue back and forth, sounding less like a powerful god threatening a demigod and more like two stubborn relatives sniping at each other over Thanksgiving dinner.   
  
'But I don't have your helmet. I came for the master bolt!' Percy insisted.  
  
'Which you already possess! You came here with it. Little fool, thinking you could threaten me!'  
  
'But I didn't!'  
  
'Open your pack, then.' Hades threw down this gauntlet with the air of a challenger.  
  
Grover and I both stared at Ares's backpack. Percy unzipped it with trembling fingers. He held it open and light burst from it, dazzling us all.  
  
Zeus's master bolt crackled with power.  
  
'Percy, how …' I croaked.  
  
'I—I don't know. I don't understand.'  
  
Hades laughed mirthlessly. 'You heroes are always the same. Your pride makes you foolish, thinking you could bring such a weapon before me. I did not ask for Zeus's master bolt, but since it is here, you will yield it to me. I am sure it will make an excellent bargaining tool. And now … my helmet. Where is it?'  
  
None of us knew what to say. I squeezed my Waterland pack nervously, wondering if it would spontaneously produce the Helm of Darkness, just as the bolt had mysteriously appeared in Percy's backpack. I could have sworn it hadn't been there when I'd checked our supplies in the zoo transport. Unless there had been a secret compartment. But why, and who …?  
  
Ares.  
  
He'd given us the backpack. Had he been siding with Kronos all along, against the rest of his family? It was the simplest explanation, but something was still missing. Ares was still a god. He couldn't usurp another god's symbol of power directly, any more than Hades could have. There still had to be a go-between.  
  
I felt slightly ill as I thought of Clarisse and her ludicrous accusation of Percy when the hellhound appeared at camp. A ploy to deflect the suspicion from her?  
  
The idea of Clarisse as a traitor and spy didn't sit quite right with me. Sure, she could be a nasty piece of work, but she'd always struck me as direct and straightforward, without much stealth or finesse.  
  
Still, the other options were unthinkable. Steady, good-natured Beckendorf. Travis and Connor Stoll: light-fingered but so full of light-hearted mischief you could never imagine them working for evil. And Luke, _my_ Luke—no way.  
  
'There is no mistake,' Hades said contemptuously. 'I know why you have come—I know the _real_ reason you brought the bolt. You came to bargain for _her_.'  
  
The golden ball I'd seen in my dreams materialised in Hades hand. He flicked it upwards and it elongated into a full-size shimmering globe, radiating heat like the sun. Mrs Jackson stood motionless inside it.  
  
Next to me, Percy sucked in his breath. His hand reached out to his mother, an expression of utmost longing on his face.  
  
Hades sat back in his throne and folded his arms. 'Yes. I took her. I knew, Percy Jackson, that you would come to bargain with me eventually. Return my helmet, and perhaps I will let her go. She is not dead, you know. Not yet. But if you displease me, that will change.'  
  
I didn't know what Percy would do. It felt like our original task had morphed into a totally different, but equally impossible mission. I tried to focus on the quest: get the lightning bolt, return it to Olympus. Well, we had the lightning bolt, and apparently had had it all along, but now we had to get _out_ of the Underworld if we were to return it—escape from Hades, who wanted the bolt.  
  
I wanted to tell him again— _you can't bargain with Hades, not even for your mom_ —but of course I couldn't exactly say that in front of Hades himself. And even if I could, I had a feeling it wouldn't make a difference.  
  
Percy loved his mom. It was clear in the way he talked about her, the way he'd looked every time we'd spoken of her. He would do anything for her.  
  
Looking at Mrs Jackson's face, frozen in terrified concern, I felt like the feelings were probably mutual. It put a lump in my throat, thinking about what the pair of them must have been like together. It was because of her that Percy had so much faith in family.  
  
'Ah, the pearls,' Hades said suddenly. I glanced at Percy. His hands were in his pockets, searching. He stopped and looked at Hades with dread. Hades smirked at him. 'Yes, my brother and his little tricks. Bring them forth, Percy Jackson.'  
  
Percy's hand emerged from his pocket with the three milky pearls the Nereid had given him. The gift we hadn't yet paid for.  
  
'Only three.' Hades stroked his chin in faux-thoughtfulness. 'What a shame. You do realise each only protects a single person. Try to take your mother, then, little godling. And which of your friends will you leave behind to spend eternity with me? Go on. Choose. Or give me the backpack and accept my terms.'  
  
 _Everything comes with a price_ , I thought.  
  
'We were tricked, set up,' Percy said.   
  
'Yes,' I said—that much was obvious, 'but why? And the voice in the pit—'  
  
The strategy fell neatly into my head like the unlocking of a puzzle box: steal two weapons of power. Pit brother against brother and render the earth in warfare. Capture Percy and use him to claim the last weapon of power. Unite the three and rise from Tartarus.  
  
'I don't know yet, but I intend to ask,' Percy said grimly.  
  
 _Ask who?_ I wanted to say, but this was no time for a conversation. Hades was pressuring Percy for his decision.  
  
 _Let your head guide you and not your heart. You are the daughter of wisdom. There is no room for fickle emotion in a quest for truth._  
  
It was a simple logic puzzle, ultimately. We had two options—use the bolt or use the pearls.  
  
'Percy, you can't give him the bolt,' Grover said. I agreed. The bolt wasn't really an option. We needed it to complete the quest—we had to complete it first before we could move on and solve the rest of our problems.  
  
Which meant we had three pearls for four of us.  
  
'Leave me here,' Grover said. 'Use the third pearl on your mom.'  
  
Percy stared at him, horror-struck at the idea. 'No!'  
  
'I'm a satyr. We don't have souls like humans do. He can torture me until I die, but he won't get me forever. I'll just be reincarnated as a flower or something. It's the best way.'  
  
He might be logically right about that, but I couldn't take it. Not after Thalia, standing eternally as a tree. I couldn't bear any more sacrifices on my behalf. I couldn't let him do it.  
  
Nor could I let Percy stay. He had to complete the quest, and he had to get his mother back. It would break him if he'd come all the way and lost her again. Grover was Percy's best friend, his protector, and he could still have an incredible future ahead of him.  
  
There was only one other alternative.  
  
I drew my knife. 'No,' I told them, and to my relief, my voice came out steady and strong. 'You two go on. Grover, you have to protect Percy. You have to get your searcher's license and start your quest for Pan. Get his mom out of here. I'll cover you.' I looked at the skeleton warriors, at least two dozen of them, all levelling their weapons at us. I hoped the pearls would work quickly. I'd have to be really fast and even if I managed to hold them off, I'd probably only buy my friends seconds. But this was it. Both Grover and Percy had already proven their mettle. This was my chance to show that I had what it took to be a hero, too.  
  
Even if it was my last stand. 'I plan to go down fighting.'  
  
'No way,' Grover protested. 'I'm staying behind.'  
  
'Think again, goat boy.'  
  
'Stop it, both of you!' Percy ordered. 'I know what to do.'  
  
He shoved a pearl at each of us. 'Take these.'  
  
The pearl was no bigger than the tip of my index finger, perfectly smooth. It seemed to hum with energy.   
  
'But, Percy,' I started to say.  
  
Percy shook his head at me. He turned to his mother, and the look in his eyes would haunt me for years. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I'll be back. I'll find a way.'  
  
'Godling?' Hades said uncertainly.  
  
'I'll find your helmet, Uncle,' Percy promised. 'I'll return it.' Amidst Hades's spluttering protests, he managed to throw in a mini-lecture—a pay raise for Charon, playtime for Cerberus—before commanding us, 'Now, guys!'  
  
In unison, we flung our pearls to the ground. They shattered. Hades yelled in fury. The skeleton guards leaped forward.  
  
The pearl fragments burst into a fine, green light. I smelt saltwater and sea air.  
  
Then I was surrounded by a shining white globe and rising with increasing speed towards the cavernous palace ceiling.   
  
We shot up and up at rollercoaster speed, straight through the ceiling, travelling through solid ground, away from the Underworld and Hades's towering rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, recognisable dialogue comes from _Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief_.


	19. Time Stops In An Epic Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy duels a god and Annabeth and Grover return to camp at last.

Hades's palace must have been directly under the sea because the pearls emerged and deposited us in the water. Grover and I splashed and spluttered, but luckily Percy knew his way about the sea. He hauled us to a life buoy and managed to get a Coast Guard vessel to drop us back on Santa Monica beach.   
  
He wouldn't say a word about his mother. The hollow look in his eyes told me everything, though.   
  
I wished I knew what to say to him. There was no way I could even pretend to know what he must be feeling. What did I know about losing a parent? I'd left my dad twice and not felt anything like the grief stamped across Percy's face.  
  
It made me feel guilty—about taking his mom's place, certainly, but there was something else, too.   
  
Ares was waiting for us on the beach. 'Hey kid,' he said casually. 'You were supposed to die.'  
  
I didn't like his nonchalant tone, nor the way he just happened to be waiting. Percy, of course, had been miffed at Ares since Denver. He confronted him immediately, accusing him of deceit, theft; he'd apparently gone through the same thought processes as I had about the possible servant, because he accused Clarisse as well.   
  
'Doesn't matter,' Ares said. 'The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad at _him_. And Hades is still looking for this …'  
  
And he brought it out: the final missing piece of the puzzle. Hades's bronze helmet, in all its terror-radiating glory.  
  
Ares had had it all along. In this, too, he was the missing link.  
  
'Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going.' Ares looked positively gleeful at the idea.  
  
'But they're your family!' Even as I said it, though, I knew I wasn't making much of an argument. After all, who could hurt you better than your own family?  
  
Ares kept on boasting about his grand plan—sending us off to deliver the bolt, magicking the sheath to hide the bolt until we got there. Except his strategy—and from everything I'd ever heard, Ares _wasn't_ exactly a brain trust—sounded like it fit very well into what I'd worked out Kronos's to be. Then there was the way we'd nearly ended up in Tartarus, along with the bolt.  
  
Did Kronos have the power to manipulate a god into betraying his own family?  
  
Percy had picked up on it, too. 'But why not just keep the master bolt for yourself? Why send it to Hades?'  
  
Ares took on that same unsettled look he'd had when we'd talked in the diner in Denver and I'd asked him who Hades had used as a thief. Like he'd lost some information inside his head and was trying to consult some manual to get it back.  
  
'I didn't want the trouble,' he blustered. 'Better to have you caught redhanded, holding the thing.'  
  
Percy called his bluff. I was impressed at how he'd worked out the strategy, although he didn't seem to have identified Kronos yet.  
  
Or maybe, like me, he knew better than to say the name aloud.  
  
'I am the god of war!' Ares insisted. 'I take orders from no one! I don't have dreams!'  
  
That settled it. I think even Ares looked somewhat disturbed to think that something had been—or possibly still was—controlling him. There were no prizes for uncovering the truth, though. Ares simply brushed off the thought and proceeded to attack.   
  
He called down his sacred boar to kill Percy.  
  
In the myths, Ares had transformed into a boar to hunt down the guy Aphrodite had been having a fling with. He didn't do that now, but the boar that erupted from beneath the sand had his same ugly grimace and fiery, hateful eyes.  
  
Percy, the idiot, demanded a one-on-one fight. He barely spared a glance for the boar that was pawing at the sand, getting ready to charge.  
  
'Percy, run!' I yelled.  
  
He made it look easy. A quick dodge, a lightning-quick slash of his sword, and all the power of the sea to drown the sacred animal of Ares. And then he stepped up and challenged Ares again.  
  
I didn't know if it was the bravest or the most foolhardy thing I'd ever heard. When Ares finally accepted and stepped forward with his massive, ruby-encrusted sword, I was definitely leaning towards the latter.  
  
'Percy, don't do this.' I grabbed his arm. 'He's a god.' I could count on one hand the number of times a mortal had survived a duel with a god. Possibly one finger, if that.  
  
'He's a coward,' Percy said simply.  
  
What I did then was probably as foolhardy as Percy's challenge to Ares. The gods didn't take kindly to people supporting their challengers. But after everything we'd been through—the monsters, the Underworld, Percy leaving his mom behind for me—the least I could do was stand behind him.  
  
I slipped my camp necklace off my neck. 'Wear this, at least. For luck.'  
  
He looked at me, a little dumbfounded, but his eyes were soft when I tied the string of beads around his neck. My father's ring flashed at the end of the row. His fingers brushed lightly across it.  
  
'Reconciliation,' I told him. 'Athena and Poseidon together.' Maybe it would help. He was battling the god of war; he could use the goddess of war and wisdom combined on his side. I hoped my mother would be okay with it.  
  
He smiled and thanked me, and then Grover stepped up too, with a tin can and the support of the satyrs.  
  
The battle began.  
  
What can I say? It was magnificent. Terrifying, because I was so worried for Percy, but he fought like a hero, with heart and courage. He kept his head and parried Ares's strikes with his sword. He stayed quick on his feet and played to his strength: the power of the rolling sea behind him.  
  
For years I had read about heroes from ancient to modern times and imagined their battles. I probably wasn't the best judge, but I was sure that nobody watching Percy fight could deny that he had the potential, at the very least, to be one of those greats.  
  
Grover and I weren't the only spectators. The fight drew cops to the scene, sirens blaring. I called out a warning—much good it would do, with the two locked so intently in battle—but it turned out to be unnecessary. I felt the mist swirl around us with the appearance of a rising band of souls … Hades's vanguard army, led by the three Kindly Ones. But they didn't attack. They simply watched.  
  
And then the eclipse happened. Only it wasn't an eclipse. It was like all the substance in the world was being leeched out into a vacuum, the same way the pit of Tartarus had tried to inhale us into its bottomless depths. Time froze for a heartbeat, in which everything and everyone around me was a shapeless line drawing. Only dotted outlines remained: colourless, not even black and white.  
  
 _Will time cease to have meaning? Will all civilisation grind to a halt?_  
  
When it was over, we stood in a circle of destruction. Police cars overturned and in flames, side casualties from the battle. Ruined beach huts bobbing away on what had previously been a crashing tidal wave. Three wizened Furies looking absurdly gobsmacked.  
  
Ares looked as startled as all of us. Part of me kind of hoped he'd done it to win, but he'd been caught in the spell as well. Whoever had caused the eclipse, he was stronger infinitely more powerful than Ares. Even just reaching out from his dark prison.  
  
 _What will happen when Father Time is freed?_  
  
Ares lowered his sword and stepped away. That actually scared me more than his wanting to kill Percy. The eclipse was an intervention, a warning to the god: leave this half-blood alone. I could only imagine that Kronos wanted Percy for a far more sinister purpose.  
  
With a final threat to Percy, Ares drew together the scattered elements of his being—I barely had time to shout a warning—and his true form lit up the sky. Snatches of the Great Prophecy danced before my covered eyes, words I'd seen on parchment: _half-blood/three/sixteen/choice/breath/destroy_. I heard cold laughter and Grover's frantic scrabbling against a pair of winged Hermes sneakers.  
  
Was Ares the only god Kronos had managed to corrupt?  
  
When I opened my eyes, Percy stood at the edge of the sea, the waves lapping at his feet as he handed a bronze helmet—Hades's Helm—over to the three Furies. Their talons clenched over it and they disappeared in a flutter of bat wings.  
  
Percy walked up the beach towards us.  
  
Grover shook his head in disbelief. 'Percy … that was so incredibly …'  
  
'Terrifying,' I filled in for him.  
  
'Cool!' he amended.  
  
Percy gave us a wan smile. 'Did you guys feel that … whatever it was?'  
  
I knew immediately what he was talking about. Grover said something about maybe the Furies, but I met Percy's eyes and I was sure he knew. Kronos, Tartarus … he'd figured it all out, too, who had been controlling Ares and breaking up their fight.  
  
I marvelled that he wasn't trembling in his shoes. Then again, he wasn't wearing any.  
  
All he said was, 'We have to get back to New York. By tonight.'  
  
OoOoO  
  
Percy got us on a flight. In spite of the risks—as Chiron had rightly pointed out in the beginning, the son of Poseidon trespassing on Zeus's territory wasn't something to take lightly—he insisted that it was the only way, and eventually I had to agree. We were out of time.  
  
We'd attracted a big crowd. The headlines I'd read on our Amtrak journey had ignited into a nation-wide media spectacle, and the television networks all jumped in for the grand finale, courtesy of the Mist: a gunfight showdown between an abducted twelve-year-old and his crazy kidnapper. I wondered what Ares thought about being painted as an abductor. He wasn't one of the gods who went in for that sort of thing; legend had it he'd been kidnapped himself as a kid.  
  
Percy hammed it up for the cameras like a pro. If I'd seen the way he managed to play the reporters _before_ our quest, I'd have seriously believed he could have been the duplicitous thief Hades had accused him of being.  
  
As it was, I still had no leads on who it really was.  
  
 _Are you sure? All those coincidences …_ A voice in my head chided me. I shoved it aside.  
  
Zeus, thank him, did not blast us out of the sky. We touched down safely at La Guardia's domestic terminal (thought the whole time, Percy gripped my hand so tightly I thought he'd cut off my circulation), where it was child's play to distract the eagerly waiting New York tabloid reporters.  
  
'You guys get on to Half-Blood Hill,' Percy said.   
  
'What about you?' Grover asked.  
  
Percy patted the master bolt. Its sheath had turned back into a backpack. 'I've got to return this, don't I?'  
  
'We should go with you. We're a team, right?'  
  
He grinned. 'A good one. I couldn't have— _we_ couldn't have done any of this if we hadn't been together. But this last part … I think I'm meant to do it alone. Besides, Chiron needs to know.' He caught my eye and I knew that he meant more than just the return of the lightning bolt.  
  
'Are you sure you'll be all right?' I asked.  
  
'I'm sure.' He undid my camp necklace, which he was still wearing, and placed it in my hand, closing my fingers around it. 'Thanks, Annabeth. Maybe when I get back, I'll have one of my own.'  
  
Tears prickled at my eyes. I felt the sudden urge to fling my arms around him and hug him tight. But of course I didn't. 'Yeah, definitely,' I said. 'See you back at camp, Seaweed Brain.'  
  
He grinned, his single dimple winking at me, then he got into a taxi and zoomed off in the direction of the Empire State Building.  
  
Grover and I looked at each other. 'A taxi, then?'  
  
I shook my head, counting the cash we had left. There wasn't much—a couple of dollar bills and a handful of golden drachmas. 'I have a better idea.'  
  
Just as I'd seen Luke do months ago, on our return from our field trip, I tossed a drachma into the air and shouted, ' _Anakoche, harma epitribeios_!' _Stop, chariot of damnation_.  
  
The Grey Sisters' Taxi appeared right on command.  
  
'Let's go,' I told Grover.  
  
OoOoO  
  
I can't remember what I imagined the return from a quest would be like, back when I used to hope for one. The last returning hero was Luke, and that hadn't been a happy reunion. I hadn't been there when he crossed the boundaries in the dead of the night, scarred and bleeding and alone. He never talked about it. The next morning the whispers had gone round, and there he was again, with the Hermes campers at their table at breakfast. In my head, his actual entrance had been pretty dramatic.   
  
So I didn't really expect our return to feel so normal.  
  
Camp Half-Blood looked almost exactly as we'd left it—minus the rainclouds. From the vantage point of Half-Blood Hill, little orange dots peppered the campgrounds as the campers went around their afternoon activities. Laughter and hooting rang out from the canoe lake, where I surmised from the frequent splashes that campers were happily dive-bombing each other. Lava bubbled over the top of the climbing wall. A flock of Pegasi circled over the forest. Arrows, looking like tiny needles, soared across the range towards their targets.   
  
It felt a bit like coming out of the Lotus Casino, except in the opposite direction. I knew we'd only been away ten days, but it felt like we'd been gone for months.  
  
We burst in to the Big House, yelling for Chiron, but it was empty. He was out on the grounds somewhere. So we took off across the lawn to search.  
  
Chiron was leading the masters archery class. When we came running up to the range, it caused quite a commotion among the senior counsellors.   
  
'You're back!' Anita screamed.  
  
Luke's hand slipped off the bow. His arrow fired, a wide shot that slammed into a tree six feet away from the target.   
  
'Annabeth!' And suddenly I was caught in a bone-crushing hug. I thought I'd melt right through the ground. For a blissful, time-stopping second, I thought, _this is what it's like to come home_. Luke put me down and held me at arm's length, beaming. 'Oh, I'm so glad you're okay.' His eyes grew sad. 'I'm sorry about Percy … and the quest.'  
  
'What?' The thrill of Luke's welcome drained away. 'What's happened to Percy?'  
  
Luke's face paled. 'Uh—I thought … there's just the two of you, so I thought he—I assumed—'  
  
Chiron stepped forward. 'Where _is_ Percy?'  
  
'He's gone to Mount Olympus,' Grover said. 'With the bolt.'  
  
The tense faces of all the campers around us relaxed. A cheer went up from Lee Fletcher.  
  
'Maybe the kids will finally stop fighting!' Darinia Castle sighed in relief.  
  
Luke looked stunned. 'He—he did it? He completed his quest?'  
  
'Yes he did!' Grover said proudly. 'He went all the way to the Underworld and got the lightning bolt, and he even schooled Ares—'  
  
'Excuse me?' Clarisse said, pushing her way forward.  
  
The questions came in hard and fast: _Did you really go to the Underworld? Was it scary? How did you get Hades to give it up? Why didn't you guys go to Olympus with him?_  
  
'Okay, okay,' Chiron said. He raised his hands, palms up. 'Annabeth and Grover have travelled a long way. Let's give them some space.'  
  
The counsellors backed up a bit. Clarisse gave us a death glare. I wondered if she had indeed been the thief, but it was impossible to tell. She could as easily be taking offence at what Grover had said. It never took much to set her off.  
  
'I believe we will have much to celebrate tonight, when the last member of our quest team returns. I'm glad your shrouds may be burned under much more joyous circumstances,' Chiron said.  
  
'Ooh, wait until you see it!' Anita said. 'Well, yours, anyway. Percy's is a bit …' She glared at Clarisse, who crossed her arms unrepentantly.  
  
'Come now.' Chiron put a hand each on Grover's and my shoulders. 'You'll have time to catch up later. I'd like to talk to you two, first.' He kept his voice light, but when our eyes met, I knew he'd guessed we had more to tell.  
  
We left the senior archery class gossiping excitedly among themselves. I looked back over my shoulder as we headed to the Big House. Luke was frowning at us.  
  
Darinia nudged his shoulder. 'Don't be jealous, Luke,' I heard her say. 'Someone was bound to complete a quest after you.'  
  
I didn't hear his reply.  
  
Chiron's photo-board of fame beamed down at us from the wall of his office. He led us in and turned to survey us, a smile on his bearded face.  
  
'Well done, my dear.' He held out his arms and I ran into them: my second welcoming hug of the day.  
  
'And Grover,' he continued when I let go, 'I am sure the Council will vote favourably on your license after this.'  
  
'Thank you, sir,' Grover said.  
  
'Now, tell me everything.'  
  
It was a long story to tell. We started from the beginning, from the attack of the Furies on the bus out of New York, and told him everything, all the way up to Percy's showdown with Ares on the beach of Santa Monica, where Kronos had issued his dreadful warning. Grover, who hadn't realised about Kronos, stared at me in wide-eyed horror when I related the conclusion that both Percy and I had come to.  
  
Chiron was an excellent listener. His eyes followed us attentively as we talked and he nodded at all the right places, but not once did he interrupt. He looked sorrowful, but not surprised, when I mentioned Kronos's machinations in the whole business.  
  
'So we flew back, and Percy's returning the bolt to Zeus right now—'  
  
'Did that an hour or so ago, actually,' a familiar voice interrupted. Percy was leaning against the door frame, grinning cheekily.  
  
'Percy!' Grover said.  
  
'Welcome back, child.' Chiron trotted over to shake his hand. 'Annabeth and Grover have been telling me of your exploits. You've certainly been busy. I'm proud of you.'  
  
'Yeah …' Percy ran a hand through his hair. 'Busy. You could say that.'  
  
'So everything's okay?' I demanded. 'You returned the bolt, and told them about—'  
  
Percy shook his head. 'I did, but Zeus wouldn't listen.'  
  
'He didn't believe you?'  
  
'He did, but he said not to talk about it any more. My dad …' He tripped a bit over the word, but when he tried again, it came out like a tasty morsel of candy, albeit one he was particularly proud of. 'My dad said Kronos has been stirring for a long time and making people evil. But that he was stuck where he was. In the pit.'  
  
Chiron folded his fingers together, looking thoughtful. 'This matter of which you speak … the rise of the Titan Lord from Tartarus … it would indeed be impossible for him to achieve on his own.'  
  
'But he's not on his own,' Percy said. 'Someone's been helping him. Someone stole Zeus's bolt, and Hades's helmet, and it wasn't Ares. He was playing Ares just as much as the other gods.'  
  
'I do agree that the amount of power he appears to have is concerning,' Chiron admitted. 'However, if the gods have decreed that the subject is to be dropped …'  
  
'What, we just let it go? Let Kronos keep getting stronger?'  
  
'It will rest for now. You have thwarted his plans for imminent war, Percy. Whatever Kronos has planned for the future, you will have brought us time. And even if the gods are not prepared to discuss the matter at the moment, the Olympians are forewarned. It will not be so easy for Kronos to manipulate them from now on. You have succeeded at your quest, child—you all have. And now …' Chiron glanced out the window. We'd been talking so long, the sun was hanging low in the sky. He smiled at us. 'Now your victory feast awaits.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, recognisable dialogue comes from _Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief_.


	20. I Make Offerings To My Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth ties up some loose ends at the close of her quest.

The feast was magnificent. After ten days of living off snacks on public transportation and fast food in grungy diners, it was heavenly to be back at the mess hall, sitting at a proper stone table with the familiar gold-rimmed plates and silver goblets. Before the food showed up, Luke presented Percy, Grover and me with laurel wreaths to honour our victory. I watched him closely when he placed the wreath on my head, knowing that this might be a bitter reminder of his own failure, but his smile seemed genuine enough, although a little sad. I wished I could share my crown with him. It must be disappointing that he'd never gotten to have this at the end of his quest.  
  
I don't know how the nymphs managed on such short notice, but they served up a full banquet with assorted barbecued meats, amazingly sweet fruit salads, and—of all things—pizza. With extra olives.  
  
Mr D probably had something to do with it. He showed up late, when we were already finishing up, and at Chiron's prompting, said a few short words about our return: 'I see you've all toasted the campers on their return from their quest, so I hardly think I need to announce that Percy Jackson and his friends are back.'  
  
There was a general cheer and foot-stomping at the words nonetheless. My half-brothers Malcolm and Arthur thumped me soundly on the back.  
  
'Yes, yes, so the little brat didn't get himself killed and now he'll have an even bigger head,' Mr D said in a bored tone. 'Well huzzah for that.' He moved on to several camp announcements. Percy and I looked at each other across the the pavilion and we both rolled our eyes.  
  
 _At least he actually got my name right this time,_ Percy mouthed.  
  
When we'd eaten until our bellies were ready to burst, the senior counsellors led us to the front of the line of campers to lead a procession to the amphitheatre. The Hephaestus cabin set up the bonfire, and I got to see the shroud my siblings had made for me—an ethereal grey with Athena's owls carefully woven in green all across—before we burned it.  
  
'Seems a shame not to actually use it,' Percy commented. 'You know, for a real burial.' He winked.  
  
I punched his shoulder, laughing. 'Shut up, Seaweed Brain.'  
  
 _His_ shroud was pretty pathetic, just as Anita had alluded. Someone—probably Clarisse—had scrawled LOSER across it in big black letters.  
  
Grover didn't have a shroud, since he wasn't a half-blood, but he got a much better reward. The Council of Cloven Elders turned up at the campfire and made a speech about his outstanding bravery, after which they presented him with the searcher's license he'd coveted for so long.  
  
'Pan,' he sobbed, 'I'm coming at last, great Pan!'  
  
We sat together during the sing-along and marshmallow toasting, swaying back and forth as we belted out oldies like _Baa, Baa, Chrysomallos_ and _Old Geryon Had A Ranch_. Above us, the constellations rose in the clear night sky. I pointed them out to Percy as they rose. (His knowledge about them was abysmal.) Apollo cabin kept the music going long after our voices grew hoarse.  
  
'Hades sent my mom back,' Percy told me. 'He kept our bargain.'  
  
'That's great! She's okay, then?'  
  
'Yeah, I stopped by our apartment before I came to camp. I, er, left her Medusa's head. In case she wanted to use it on my stepdad.'  
  
'You …' I laughed. It seemed like an aeon ago that he'd sent the decapitated head to Olympus and challenged me to call him out on his impertinence. 'I take it the gods didn't accept the gift?'  
  
'Nope. And Aunty Em doesn't exactly have a return policy.'  
  
'Why didn't you just …' I hesitated, unsure how exactly to phrase the question such that it didn't sound as though I was asking why he hadn't committed what was essentially a murder. 'Use it yourself?' I finished.  
  
'I thought about it,' Percy admitted. 'If anyone deserves to be a stone statue, Smelly Gabe—er, my stepdad—does. He's beat up on her so much over the years. But then I realised—it's her life, her choice, right?'  
  
I stared at him, feeling a bit abashed by the frankness of his gaze. He was constantly surprising me, even now. Percy, I'd come to realise, had had it much worse than me, stepparent-wise, and he'd still given his mom the benefit of the doubt for it. Even now, when he had the power to change things, he respected her right to choose.  
  
'That was really mature of you, Percy.'  
  
He cocked his head to one side and put a hand behind his ear. 'What was that, now?'  
  
'Oh no, I'm not repeating myself.'  
  
He grinned, tossed a marshmallow in the air, and attempted to catch it in his mouth.  
  
I laughed when the marshmallow ended up his nostril instead, but in the back of my head, I was thinking, a little guiltily, of my father and whether I'd ever respected _his_ right to choose for himself.  
  
OoOoO  
  
The next morning, I started to unpack the bag I'd acquired from Waterland. It didn't smell fantastic, which wasn't surprising. The pack had travelled in a zoo transport, survived the Underworld, and then got dragged through the sea. Polluted saltwater wasn't really a great detergent. I thought about tossing the whole thing, but something stopped me. It was the only thing I'd brought back with me from our quest. It didn't seem right to just dump it in a bin and forget about it.  
  
And then I had an idea.  
  
I brought the whole pack, with all its contents, down to the amphitheatre, where the ashes from our campfire were still smouldering. I stoked the embers until I got it started again. Then I opened the pack and pulled out the first item that came to hand—a souvenir beach towel—and fed it to the flames.  
  
'Hi Mom,' I said. 'Er, I guess you know I finished the quest. I just wanted to say, well, thanks for guiding me.'  
  
There was no diving rumble, nothing I could actually classify as a heavenly response. I offered up the next souvenir, a floppy sunhat with a cartoon dolphin on the brim.  
  
'The Yankees cap helped a lot. And I tried to do everything you said—use my brains and all.'  
  
The next thing that came out was one of those snow globe things, with a miniature water park inside the sphere. It made me think of our escape from the Underworld, and Percy's choice not to leave Grover or me behind.  
  
'I made friends with him after all, Mom. I hope that's okay. He—he really isn't _that_ bad, even if he is a son of Poseidon.' stamped at its base was next.  
  
A tiny model tower with WATERLANDTM stamped at its base was next.  
  
'Anyway, thank you. I thought you might like this a bit better than the usual food offerings.'  
  
Silence, broken only by the crackle of the fire. I felt a little foolish. Why had I thought that Athena would particularly like some random tacky souvenirs, no matter where I'd picked them up from?  
  
There were only two items left. I pulled out a set of squeaky plastic blocks, the kind that kids play with in the bathtub. Their faces had alternating letters and ocean animals printed on them.  
  
The memory hit me out of nowhere. I was in a playroom and my stepbrothers were stacking alphabet blocks, and even though I couldn't stand them—the babies, not the blocks—I couldn't help showing them how they had to balance the top layers on a solid foundation so their block tower wouldn't keep falling over. Their toddler eyes stared widely at me and for once, I was pleased rather than annoyed at their attention.   
  
Usually when I thought of that incident, it was what came next that I remembered: the giant centipede that knocked over the tower and chased me around the room, our terrified screams alerting Janet, who managed to smash the monster with a thick Yellow Pages and then proceeded to scream at me. I'd almost forgotten that rare moment of peace before it, when I'd actually been … well, a sister.  
  
I put the blocks down. The last item was soft and silky, and unlike the rest of the pack, it still had a sweet fragrance. The pink scarf. I'd completely forgotten about it after I'd snatched it from Percy at the water park. I must have stuffed it in my pocket then, and at some point, it had gotten transferred to the pack with everything else.  
  
I wasn't sure what to do with it now. Girly accessories weren't really my thing, and even if it belonged to a goddess, it wasn't like it had any powers I wanted. I supposed the proper thing to do would be to return it.  
  
I was just deciding whether burning it would be appropriate—I certainly couldn't offer Aphrodite's scarf to my mother, and I had no cause to pray to the goddess of love—when the lady showed up on the opposite side of my little fire, hazy behind the smoke.  
  
For a second, my heart skipped a beat. She had glossy dark hair and a bird perched on her shoulder.   
  
But then she spoke, in a bright giggly sort of voice, the kind that would never in a million years have come from my mother's mouth: 'Annabeth Chase!'  
  
She stepped out of the smoke and I saw that the bird was a dove, not an owl. Her dress was a deep navy blue, hanging off one shoulder and falling in fluid waves about her svelte figure. She was more stunning than all of the cabin ten girls put together.  
  
'Oh, I see you were expecting someone else,' she said. 'Not to worry, I shall not take offence.'  
  
Her giggle grated on my nerves.  
  
'You made quite a splash on Hephaestus-TV, my dear. I suppose I must thank you for springing my husband's trap. Really, he has no sense of decorum. You made a marvellously entertaining episode, though. The ratings were through the roof! I think you've even attracted a number of fan-nymphs … not bad for a one-episode appearance.'  
  
My face burned. A hundred sarcastic responses ran through my head (in a voice that sounded very much like Percy's) but I bit my tongue to keep them from emerging. Instead, I held out her scarf.  
  
'I think this is yours.'  
  
'Keep it,' Aphrodite said. 'I have plenty more.'  
  
'I don't want it.'  
  
'Oh, but it might come in handy someday. My daughters could tell you. Why, the lengths you mortal women must go to sometimes, just to make the man of your dreams notice you …'  
  
I'd thought it would have been impossible for my face to get even hotter. 'I don't need anyone to notice me.'  
  
Aphrodite laughed. 'Oh, my dear, you can't lie to me, you know. Not when it comes to matters of the heart.' She touched a hand to my chin. 'Oh, what a fine story you shall make. So rarely does a daughter of Athena offer me so much _potential_. Yes …' she laughed again, 'keep the scarf, or don't keep it. Either way, I will enjoy your love life. I think it will be very … interesting.'  
  
I wanted to throw the stupid thing in her face. I didn't _have_ a love life. I didn't want one, not when boys could be so stupid. And I certainly didn't want her _watching_ my life like it was some telenovella. The Waterland debacle had been embarrassment enough.  
  
'Mom?'   
  
The interruption startled me, but I was glad for it. Silena Beauregard stood on the path leading down from the cabins, staring at us bemusedly.  
  
'Mom, what are you doing here?' she said.  
  
'Oh, you know.' Aphrodite waved her hand airily. 'A pleasant morning chat. Why don't you join us?'  
  
'Um, I actually just wanted a word with Annabeth.'  
  
Aphrodite's eyes glinted as they travelled between me and Silena. 'Ah,' she said, smiling like she'd been given a particularly delicious box of candies. 'I love a good plot twist.' She touched Silena's brow softly. It looked gentle, like a blessing, but Silena grimaced.   
  
I blinked, and in that second, Aphrodite was gone. A scatter of white dove feathers and rose petals rained down on our heads.  
  
Silena plucked them out of her hair. 'I hate it when she does that.'  
  
I nodded politely but warily. I was grateful to be released from that awkward conversation with Aphrodite, but I didn't really want to be out here with Silena either.  
  
'I asked Luke to Fireworks night,' Silena said suddenly. I felt a stab of annoyance. Why was she telling me that? I didn't want to hear about her going out with him.  
  
'He, um, hasn't said too much about you, but I can tell you two are close. I haven't spent all that time with him yet, but I heard about you guys and, um, Thalia, and I meant to reassure you that if we started dating, I wasn't going to be stealing your big brother or anything. But then my mom … look, I don't know what she was saying to you, but when she said "plot twist" … well, she's got this annoying habit of treating us like characters in a story. Like we're not _real_. Like we don't have feelings.' She paused, twisting her fingers together nervously. 'Anyway, I'm guessing you actually like Luke, too.'  
  
'I don't _like_ anyone,' I said automatically.  
  
Silena smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. 'Yeah, well, I just wanted to say, if it bothers you, I'll … I don't know, I still _want_ to go to the Fireworks with him, but I don't want someone to get hurt in whatever love games my mom's playing. So I won't do it if you don't want me to.'  
  
I didn't really know what to say to this astonishing pronouncement. To begin with, I was kind of shocked that a daughter of Aphrodite would be so conscientious. I'd mostly written them off as, well, shallow. As for Luke … I still didn't know exactly what it was I felt about him. He _was_ like family, and I'd craved his attention for a long time now, but what Silena and Aphrodite talked about—love, and all that dating stuff … to be honest, I never really thought that far ahead.  
  
Luke was a lot older than me. I still had a lot of growing up to do before he'd ever properly notice me. There would time for all of that. If I even still wanted him to. I had a mental picture of myself with a date to Fireworks night—not that I wanted one—and the boy with me _didn't_ have Luke's sandy hair. Anyway, if Silena could be nice and, well, mature about all of it …  
  
'It's okay with me if you go to the Fireworks with Luke.'  
  
She smiled at me again. 'You're all right, Annabeth.'  
  
'Um, thanks?'  
  
'I'll leave you to—er—whatever it is.' She patted my shoulder and walked away.  
  
I stared at the scarf and the plastic blocks for a long while. Finally, I knew what I wanted to do. I put out the fire and picked up my stuff.  
  
I rinsed out my Waterland pack and the plastic blocks and left them out to sun on the front of cabin six. While I waited for them to dry off, I started a letter to my dad. I told him about the adventure I'd had, including the monsters we'd managed to defeat. The only bit I left out was about Kronos. At the end, I finished:  
  
 _I've been thinking about what you said in your last letter. I'm sorry I never wrote back for so long. If the offer is still open, I might like to try coming home for the school year._  
  
I made a package of the Waterland pack and blocks and slid the letter inside. Then, before I could lose my nerve, I ran down to the Big House to pass it to Argus to send in his next mail run.  
  
I'd dedicated most of my quest souvenirs to my mother, but it was time for me to stop ignoring the _other_ part of my family. And maybe some of its members might appreciate the blocks.  
  
The scarf, though, I brought to the attic.  
  
It felt like a million years since I'd stepped into the musty attic, where the Oracle presided over the dusty relics and discarded belongings of generations of demigods. It was the trophy cabinet of unwanted items, I realised now.  
  
Aphrodite's love scarf was an apt contribution.  
  
I draped it across a bronze claw that was tagged, _CLAW OF THE DRAGON LADON, recovered from the Garden of the Hesperides, by Luke Castellan_. The moment it left my hands, a tag materialised on the end: _SCARF OF THE GODDESS APHRODITE, recovered at Waterland, Denver, CO, by Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson_.  
  
Well, that was that.  
  
I glanced at the Oracle, remembering the last time I'd visited and she'd given me a hint about everything starting with Percy getting here.  
  
'I guess you were right,' I told it.   
  
She didn't say anything, just smiled her mysterious, vacant smile.  
  
I ran into Chiron at the bottom of the steps.  
  
'Back so soon?' he said. 'Surely you're not already hankering for a new quest?'  
  
I shook my head. 'Just dropping something off.' Meeting him right after I'd seen the Oracle reminded me of something. 'Chiron, yesterday … you didn't seem surprised about Kronos.'  
  
'Yes, child.'  
  
'Did you already know?'  
  
'I had my suspicions.'  
  
'But you didn't say anything. You told us it was Hades.'  
  
'I did in fact believe that Lord Hades was the perpetrator. Like you, I did not know of his missing helmet. If I had … perhaps I would have come to a different conclusion. As it was, any suspicions I had about the stirrings you described seemed to be too speculative.  
  
'Prophecies are tricky things. Their lines are designed to mislead, and they leave out more information than they give. Even now, while I suspect that the Great Prophecy may finally be coming into play, I cannot be certain. Too many actions have gone into shaping it, that the path it will eventually take to bear out its lines is a convoluted one indeed.'  
  
'What do you mean, actions have gone into shaping it? I thought prophecies told the future? Are you saying we can change the prophecy?'  
  
'No, a prophecy _will_ eventually come to pass. It is in essence a framework that has already been set—without it, we would not be able to act—but we are still architects of our lives, and our choices within the blueprint that has been set for us work to bring it to fruition. Taking on a prophecy is a serious thing. Just by attempting to interpret one, we could be the catalyst to set it in motion. Many before have gone mad trying to thwart the fates they read in an oracle. I have seen myself minds destroyed from the terrible knowledge of the future.'  
  
'Is that why you didn't want to tell Percy about the Great Prophecy?'  
  
'Partly. You should probably know that the gods have determined not to reveal any of it to him either. They … well, they have their reasons. At any rate, the prophecy is a heavy burden for a child to carry. I would like for him to find out who he is on his own, rather than feel compelled to live his life in accordance with an outside force'  
  
 _A final choice shall end his days, Olympus to preserve or raze,_ I thought.  
  
I'd seen the pain in Percy's face when he had to choose between us and his mom. If he'd known, if any of us had known beforehand that a choice like that might be coming … I couldn't really say what we'd have done. The possibilities were too unpredictable.  
  
Still, Percy had done the right thing under pressure. He'd chosen to stop the war. How could anyone believe, after that, that he would choose to destroy Olympus?  
  
'He's a good person,' I said. 'If he knew, he'd try to do the right thing.'  
  
'It's not that simply, Annabeth. Many choices we make seem like the right one, but the consequences can be unforeseen. Trying to control the prophecy … well, you've studied Greek history. I'm sure you know how many prophecies have been brought about simply by someone acting on it. I can only imagine this is why the Titan Lord did not want to destroy Percy now. With the possibility of the prophecy resting on his shoulders, he will wish to play Percy like a wild card, gambling on him for a chance to rise.'  
  
I shivered. Chiron put a hand on my shoulder.  
  
'But what you have said is true, too. Percy has the makings of a true hero, who might save Olympus. Ultimately, I would like to keep him alive long enough for him to grow into the hero Olympus needs him to be.' He paused. 'You will have a part to play, too, I am sure. What, I cannot tell, but I do have confidence in you, my dear. You have heart and courage and I am sure we can count on you to lead Percy well.'  
  
Blood rushed to my face at his praise.  
  
'Do you understand, also, why I have kept what I have from you, too?' Chiron asked.  
  
I thought I did. But still, I had to ask. 'Does this mean you won't tell me the full prophecy after all?'  
  
Chiron looked at me shrewdly. 'I believe I will leave that to you, Annabeth. I trust your wisdom.'  
  
I thought of our journey across the country, everything we had learned without knowing the full picture from the start. I thought of Kronos stirring in Tartarus and how I had resisted putting the pieces together until my mind grew strong enough to handle the horror of it.  
  
The Great Prophecy was like that, too. A mystery that I had yet to fully understand, that maybe I wasn't quite ready to put together now.  
  
Chiron was right. As much as I wanted to believe that all knowledge was necessary, there were times when the truth had to be handled carefully. I would learn the whole thing one day, but not until I could understand the parts that I did know.  
  
That would have to be enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, recognisable dialogue (well, pretty much just Dionysus's speech) comes from _Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief_.


	21. I Get A Birthday Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth gets a few gifts and has to make a decision about the upcoming year.

The ten days of our quest had seemed like months, but the rest of the summer made up for it by racing by. Successfully completing a quest raised our status among the campers quite a bit. Anita officially handed over counsellor-ship of cabin six to me, and no one, not ever Clarisse, made a single comment about my age. (Percy, as the only cabin three camper, because his own honorary counsellor as well, which he rubbed in my face until I pointed out that it was hardly a distinction when he didn't actually _have_ anyone to counsel.)  
  
Percy's popularity shot up especially. It was a bit like when Luke had returned from his quest two years ago, with campers wanting to hear his story and be his friend, only Percy was an actual successful hero, so the attention he got was threefold—and with none of the pity. I thought Percy would just drift away from me in the wake of his newfound celebrity status, but he kept going out of his way to seek me and Grover out for camp activities.  
  
To be fair, Grover and I did come in for a fair share of attention, too, if not as much as Percy, but I mostly brushed it off. Unlike Percy, I wasn't quite so sociable, and most people at camp knew that already. The one person whose attention I _did_ hope for … well, to my disappointment, Luke still kept his distance from me. I might have thought it was because he was busy with Silena Beauregard, but after their date at the Fourth of July fireworks, he didn't seem to be going about with her significantly.  
  
I remembered what one of the counsellors had said to him the day we got back. Maybe he _was_ jealous. The thought made me sad, but there was so much to keep me busy that I didn't have much time to dwell on it.  
  
Grover left for his own personal quest, the search for Pan, on the night of the fireworks. Percy and I wished him luck. He'd need it, embarking on a quest with a zero percent success rate so far. Still, if there was one thing Grover had, it was heart. He had determination enough and courage enough to defy the odds twice, and he'd never given up on his dream even when the Council Elders tried to dissuade him. If anyone could do this, it would be Grover.  
  
I ended up watching the fireworks with Percy, explaining the yearly tradition and pointing out which of the displays were new. Unsurprisingly, he was full of irreverent comments and he needed explanations for half the firework scenes, but I was getting used to it. Sitting on the blanket with him, trading insults and throwing Cheetos at each other, felt like the most normal thing in the world now.  
  
Two days after the fireworks, Chiron called me to his office.  
  
'I received a very surprising message, Annabeth,' he said. 'From your father.'  
  
'He IM-ed you?' I said in shock.  
  
'Er, no. Regular email. I do have one, although for obvious reasons, I use it only sparingly.'  
  
I felt a wave of disappointment. 'So he didn't want to speak to me.'  
  
'Actually, he did,' Chiron said. 'His letter is on his way—he sent it immediately, but the post takes a while, and he wanted you to know right away that he'd got _your_ letter.' Chiron's eyes twinkled. 'Anything you want to tell me about that?'  
  
'Um,' I said, feeling my face heat up. 'I … well, it came up during the quest. He's sent me a lot of letters. I thought I should finally write back.'  
  
'I see. And I should not be worried that you wish to be rescued from camp?'  
  
'What? No, I didn't—I only said maybe I could—'  
  
Chiron laughed. 'All right, he didn't say that. Teasing aside, your father is more than happy for you to go home for the school year. He has, however, and wisely, in my opinion, acknowledged that your last experience did not work out well, and so he wanted to send a message in advance of his letter to give you more time to think things through after hearing back from him.'  
  
'So … it's still up to me.' I frowned. 'What do you think I should do, Chiron?'  
  
'You know I can't make your choices for you, Annabeth. Relationships are tricky. It's hard for people to change their natures. If you want things to work, you have to be prepared to work at it—as well as trust that the other person will do the same.'  
  
I nodded slowly.   
  
'Annabeth,' Chiron said gently, 'my email isn't very easy to find. Your father must have put in a lot of effort to search for me. I suspect some divine assistance as well.' Chiron raised one eyebrow at me. 'You might want to think about that while you make your decision.'  
  
OoOoO  
  
The letter itself arrived on my birthday two weeks later, in the midst of a sweltering hot July. While the other campers dive-bombed each other in the canoe lake, I took it to read in the privacy of the sword-fighting arena, which was empty between classes.  
  
 _My dearest Annabeth,_ it said, _we're overjoyed that you want to come home._  
  
It wasn't very long, unlike the persuasive missive he'd sent me with his college ring two years ago. This letter was straight and to the point—he'd missed me, he was sorry as well for how things had turned out, and he wanted us to try again. He didn't promise that everything would be better, nor did he even assure me that it would be different. He said only that he was proud of what I'd done and he hoped that we could learn to accept one another.  
  
I felt like I trusted that more.  
  
 _I imagine this letter will take a while to arrive, so I will find a way to contact you more directly in the meantime. I want you home very much—Janet does too, though I know it may take you some convincing to believe that—but I don't want it to be a disappointment for you. Think things through, my dear. Our home will always be yours, too, whenever you are ready to come back to it.  
  
I love you,  
Dad_  
  
The sound of footsteps made me look up.  
  
'Oh, sorry. I thought no one would be in here.' It was Luke. He carried a sword in his hands, still sheathed. 'I'll come back later.'  
  
 _If you want things to work, you have to be prepared to work at it._  
  
'No—wait.' I stuffed the letter in my pocket and stood quickly. 'Luke. We—you've barely said anything to me all summer.'  
  
Luke looked down. 'What do you want me to say, Annabeth?'  
  
'I don't know. Aren't you happy for me?'  
  
There was a long pause. At last, he said, 'I'm glad you're back safe. It would have been awful if anything had happened to you.' He sighed. 'Look, I'm sorry. There's just been … a lot on my mind. Stuff to think about. I'm getting older … I mean, I'm already nineteen. That's a long time to be still at a summer camp, you know?'  
  
'You're the leader, though. You're the best counsellor we have!'  
  
Luke smiled faintly. 'Thanks, kid. So anyway, catch me up. What's happening with you?'  
  
I traced the edge of my dad's letter. 'Um, I might be going home.'  
  
'You?' Luke raised his eyebrow. 'I thought you vowed you'd never do it, after last time.'  
  
'Well, Percy said—'  
  
'You're letting a twelve-year-old kid convince you to go back to a family that was horrible to you?'  
  
'They weren't really—I mean, it wasn't just …' I realised I'd never really told Luke the details about why I hated my real family. He and Thalia had just accepted it as a matter of course that my family was horrible. After all, theirs were. I'd loved them for it at the time. It made explaining difficult now, though.  
  
'Annabeth … I wouldn't listen too much to Percy Jackson, okay? He's … he's still a kid, you know? And he doesn't know that much about the world, not like we do.'  
  
'Percy's all right, Luke.' I winced the moment the words left my mouth. I hadn't intended to reply sharply at all. 'Sorry. I just mean he's a friend.'  
  
'Right,' Luke said, running a hand through his hair. It stood up on end for a second before he flattened it back down. 'I guess I just don't want you to get hurt, hanging around him.'  
  
'Why would I get hurt? I can take care of myself around monsters, now.'  
  
Luke laughed, though I didn't sense a lot of humour in it. 'I guess you proved that, huh. But then, I already knew you could.' He reached over and ruffled my hair, and for a moment, it was almost like old times. Then his expression closed off, became unreadable. 'You know, you may be right. Maybe it's a good thing you're going back out into the world after all.'  
  
'Are you going to miss me if I go?'  
  
'You bet.' Luke unsheathed his sword. I realised it was something new, a celestial bronze blade with a hard steel edge to it. It matched the guarded expression he seemed to wear so often now, like a protective mask lining the real Luke—the one I missed so much—underneath.  
  
I wondered if that was how my dad felt about _me_.  
  
As I left Luke to his practice, I thought I knew what my reply to my dad would be.  
  
OoOoO  
  
I found Percy waiting outside cabin six, nervously kicking at loose dirt on the ground with his hands clasped behind his back.  
  
'Hey,' he said when he saw me, 'I didn't see you all morning.'  
  
'I had … stuff.' I debated about telling him about my dad's letter, but decided not to for now. It wasn't completely settled after all, until I actually replied with my final decision. 'What have you been up to?'  
  
'Well, I, um …' He was blushing, for some reason. I raised an eyebrow.  
  
'What did you do?'  
  
He brought out a small cuboidal object from behind his back. It was about the size of my palm and was made of silver.  
  
'Happy birthday,' he said, giving me a lopsided smile.   
  
I took the model and turned it over in my hands. It had a pyramidal top that was slightly slanted, and its sides were individual round columns dropping into a thin rectangular base. Eight by seventeen of them. I could feel little grooves running vertically along the columns.   
  
'It's supposed to be—'  
  
'The Parthenon,' I said. It wasn't a precise replica by any means, but it was close enough for me to see the resemblance. 'Did you make this, Percy?'  
  
'Er, kind of … well, I had Beckendorf's help. He's amazing at the forges. I couldn't get it right myself—you should have seen the model I tried to make at arts and crafts, it came out like a pyramid.'  
  
My heart felt like it was doing cartwheels in my chest. Not only had Percy paid attention to what I'd told him back in St Louis, but he'd also bothered to find out my birthday and remember it.  
  
 _Luke_ hadn't even bothered with my birthday this year.  
  
'Thank you.' My voice came out as a squeak, and my face grew hot.  
  
'The roof's still a bit off,' Percy said apologetically. 'Beckendorf probably could have made it perfect, but I thought I ought to at least finish it off myself …'  
  
'I love it,' I told him. 'How did you know it was my birthday?'  
  
'Grover told me.'  
  
'Oh.' I felt a little guilty; I'd never thought to ask about Percy's birthday. I wondered if thinking now about giving him something in return would mean less because of that, but I asked anyway. 'When's yours?'  
  
'August eighteenth,' he said. It was after we'd break camp. I thought even more guiltily of my plans to go home. I'd be leaving Percy. That was almost enough to make me reconsider my decision.  
  
'You don't have to get me anything, though,' Percy said quickly, misreading my hesitation. 'I just wanted to—well, you did me a big favour, with my quest and all. You and Grover, I mean. I couldn't have done it without you guys. You were great friends. The prophecy was wrong.'  
  
'The prophecy?'  
  
Percy looked stricken, like he hadn't meant to let that slip. 'Um, you know, about the quest. I didn't really fail, like it said.'  
  
I tried to recall what Percy's prophecy had been—something about facing a god in the west. I didn't remember anything being prophesied about failure. In fact, I could have sworn Percy had told us the Oracle had said he _would_ find the bolt.   
  
'What was the prophecy, Percy?'  
  
He squirmed a bit, but I stared him down. Reluctantly, he recited:  
  
' _You shall go west, and face the god who has turned.  
You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned._'  
  
Well, that was pretty much what I remembered. I was confused, since both of those lines had come true, and neither said anything about failure. But then Percy shared another two lines that I could have sworn he'd never told us about.  
  
' _You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend.  
And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end._'  
  
'Oh,' I said, turning this new information over. 'You didn't tell us that part.' I thought I should feel a bit angry about that, but I could sort of see why he had kept it to himself. He must have been wondering the whole time which of us would betray him. I found myself marvelling at how he had still put his trust in us the whole time, from the moment he'd come back for us on the bus out of New York. Thinking about that in light of the prophecy made me feel even warmer towards him.  
  
'Sorry,' he said. 'I just thought … well, anyway, I guess it didn't matter. It wasn't talking about you guys. I never really believed it could be.'  
  
'Chiron says prophecies have double meanings. The first two lines are straightforward enough, but I guess the last two weren't really referring to the bolt. Which makes sense, because the bolt _wasn't_ what mattered most, in the end, was it? I mean, with Kr—the Titan Lord … that's more important. And you didn't manage to convince the Olympians to take action.'  
  
'I didn't think of that,' Percy admitted. 'I thought it meant my mom. I didn't manage to save her when we were in Hades's palace.'  
  
'But he sent her back in the end. And you saved her from your stepfather, sort of, didn't you?'  
  
Percy shook his head. 'She did that herself.'  
  
'So maybe that's the double meaning.'  
  
'What about the betrayal? No one's betrayed me at all.'  
  
'Well, Ares kind of did, with his trick,' I reminded him.  
  
'Ares isn't my friend.'  
  
'You said "one who _calls_ you a friend". He was friendly, sort of, in the beginning. When he wanted a favour.' I allowed that this was probably really stretching the definition of 'friend', but prophecies were so vague that it could conceivably mean that. 'I mean, what other explanation could there be? Unless it meant being accidentally betrayed, like when we almost followed Grover into Tartarus.'  
  
'I guess you're right,' Percy said, though he still looked worried and uncertain, as if a betrayal might still spring out at him from nowhere.  
  
'Cheer up,' I told him. 'The quest is all over now. And even if the gods aren't doing anything about it yet, at least you've told them what's going on.'  
  
He nodded.  
  
'Come on,' I said. 'Let me put this way and we can go talk about how we're going to beat Ares at the next game. You'd better join my team. I have the perfect plan.'  
  
'Of course you do. _Athena always, always has a plan_.' His voice was slightly mocking, but I knew it was just playful teasing.  
  
'Don't you forget it, Seaweed Brain!'  
  
'Wouldn't dream of it, Wise Girl.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cross-posting to this archive is now caught up! :) The final chapter will be posted at the same time as I finish it for all sites I post on.


	22. My Oldest Friend Betrays Us All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The betrayal in Percy's prophecy is revealed, and after seeing Percy come round from a brush with death, Annabeth gears up to go home for the first time in two years.

On the last day of camp, for the first time in years, I packed up everything I owned into my duffel bag—one that I hardly ever used because I never _went_ anywhere—and looked, a little wistfully, at my clean quarters in cabin six. My siblings looked at me in surprise.  
  
' _You're_ going home?' Anita said in disbelief.  
  
I shrugged. 'I thought it was time I tried.'  
  
Chiron came down to the cabins, his upper body in the formal shirt he only wore for important meetings—like dozens of parents coming to fetch their kids. Argus trailed behind him, hundreds of eyes taking in the flurry of activity from all the cabins. He noted my packed duffel on the porch and hefted it onto his shoulder, pointing to Half-Blood Hill to let me know he'd carry my bag over.  
  
I looked at Chiron. 'Is my dad—?'  
  
'Not yet,' Chiron said. 'I told Argus to keep an eye out. When he arrives, Argus will fetch us.'  
  
'Us?'  
  
Chiron smiled. 'You wouldn't leave without a proper goodbye, now, would you?'  
  
I hugged him tightly, then I bit my lip. Chiron wasn't the only farewell that meant something to me. I'd already told Luke, of course, but I still wanted to say goodbye to him, too. And then there was Percy—the main source of my guilt.  
  
I had put off telling him because I figured he was staying and I actually felt worse about leaving him behind than I did Luke. Besides, it was a bit embarrassing that he was the one who had ultimately convinced me to give my dad a second chance. Even if he didn't know that yet.  
  
'I have to find …'  
  
'Of course,' Chiron said, glancing knowingly across the green towards cabin three. He trotted away to talk to some of the other campers.  
  
I took a deep breath and headed across the central hearth.  
  
No one answered when I knocked on the door of cabin three, so I inched the door open and peeked inside. I hadn't been in it before—Percy had the whole place to himself, so thanks to the strict camp rules, I wasn't supposed to visit since there weren't any other campers to chaperone us. (The rule still struck me as silly. We hung out in all sorts of places together, what was different about our cabins?) Cabin three was a lot airier than the rest, which struck me as silly because nine months of the year, the open slats were going to make it _really_ drafty. With only one occupant, it was a lot roomier, but just as disorganised. Percy's things were all over the place, his bed unmade and his clothes littered across the floor. I guessed I was right about him staying the year.  
  
'He's not there, Chase,' Clarisse called from the porch of cabin five. 'Saw him headed for the sword-fighting arena. As if any practice is going to keep us from pulverising him once we catch him.' She cracked her knuckles, looking like she was eagerly anticipating the moment Percy's friends would all be gone and she could beat him up.  
  
I rolled my eyes. I'd seen Percy fight her dad. Clarisse didn't stand a chance. But I nodded to her in thanks anyway.  
  
I was halfway down the path towards the arena when I heard the screams coming from the edge of the woods.  
  
'Get nectar, _hurry_!'  
  
'Oh my gods!'  
  
'Someone call Chiron quick!'  
  
I pushed my way through the throng of senior counsellors. Percy lay prone at the feet of Darinia Castle, his face a deathly grey. There was an eerie green tinge to his skin. His right hand was bright red and throbbing. My throat caught painfully at the sight.   
  
'What happened?'  
  
The dryads had come out of their trees to stare. One of them held something out in her hand: two halves of a palm-sized scorpion.  
  
At least half the counsellors swore in unison.  
  
'Pit scorpion …' Castor Engel murmured.  
  
'Kills in sixty seconds,' someone else said.  
  
Chiron galloped up, conch horn in hand. He blew it nine times—three short blasts, three long, three short—to signal an emergency, then bent down and scooped Percy up as easily as he had the first night we'd found him collapsed on the porch.  
  
'Wait!' I cried. I dashed to the creek and scooped up a handful of water. I splashed it over Percy.  
  
 _Please_ , I thought, remembering how the water had healed his cuts during our first capture the flag.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
'Pit scorpion venom is tricky,' Chiron said. 'Usually it kills within a minute, but Percy is still hanging on—the water may have given him some time.' He looked at Darinia. 'Get Will Solace. We'll need him in the infirmary.'  
  
It felt uncannily like the night I'd met Percy. Chiron got him to the infirmary and instructed me to pour nectar over his palm. He muttered an incantation over it in Latin, a phrase I didn't really recognise. A dishevelled-looking Will arrived shortly, panting.  
  
'Darinia said—pit scorpion—how—he's not dead?'  
  
'Not yet. Nectar and the _cura_ , and of course, water itself gives Percy strength. What we need now is some good old medicinal mud.'  
  
Will's eyes widened. 'The soil of Lemnos, sir?'  
  
'Yes, hurry,' Chiron said. 'I had some in a jar, I believe. And if you could infuse it with some more healing power while you're at it …'  
  
'Got it, sir!' Will rifled around in the medicine cabinets and came up with what looked like a jar of dirt. He uncapped it, put a hand over the top and concentrated, muttering under his breath.  
  
Chiron took care of the rest of it. He dug out a couple of handfuls of dirt and slathered the reddish-brown soil up and down Percy's right arm, chanting softly as he did so. It looked like he was building a sand sculpture out of earth.  
  
I grabbed Will's arm. 'What's he doing?'  
  
'Calling on the power of the godly ichor in the soil. It's meant to be restorative, but it's usually for minor wounds … and it's pretty good for snake bites,' Will explained.  
  
'Will that work?'  
  
'I don't know. It was a scorpion sting, and Percy ought to be dead, so—ouch!'  
  
I'd accidentally dug my nails into Will's elbow. I apologised and released him quickly.  
  
Chiron looked up. 'Annabeth, would you mind helping to get Luke? He's still head counsellor. He needs to know there's been a monster attack.'  
  
I was so glad for the task to distract me from worrying about Percy's survival, I didn't even stop to wonder why Luke hadn't already come running at the emergency call of Chiron's horn. I sprinted all the way to cabin eleven, which was noisy and boisterous as half the occupants were trying to pack while the other half kept nicking their stuff. I burst through the door, shouting, 'Luke, Luke! There's been an attack, Percy's been hurt!'  
  
About fifteen heads looked up at me in shock. A dozen campers shot me questions that I didn't really hear. I scanned the sea of faces for Luke, but didn't find him.  
  
Travis caught my shoulder. 'Luke's not here, Annabeth.'  
  
'Where is he, then?'  
  
'We don't know. He—his bunk's been cleared out.'  
  
'What?'  
  
Travis steered me over to an empty bunk bed by the window. It was completely stripped, the sheets in a small, neat bundle at the foot. All the other bunks in the cabin, as well as the bedrolls on the ground, had bags and belongings littered around them, but Luke's bed was pristine.  
  
'But—he's a year-rounder … why would he—?'  
  
 _Run away?_ a nasty little voice in my mind supplied. I shut it out.  
  
'No one's seen him since morning,' Travis said. He waved his brother over. 'Hey, Connor, when was the last time you saw Luke?'  
  
'After breakfast,' Connor said. 'He packed everything in a bag and took it out. I asked him what he was doing and he just said he had something to do. I didn't pry.'  
  
'He … he's got to be around somewhere,' I said. 'He wouldn't just leave camp. If he was going to, he'd—he'd tell me.' I stared at his cleaned-out bunk again, as though it might offer a clue.  
  
'There's something here.' Travis reached across the bed and picked at a little spot at the edge of the mattress. He worked what looked like a crumpled piece of paper out of the space between mattress and bedpost.  
  
I took it, thinking it might be a note or something.  
  
My seven-year-old self beamed up at me. In the photograph, I was looking at Luke—much younger and sans scar—kind of adoringly. He had his arm around Thalia, whose fist was against his shoulder like she'd just punched it, but she was grinning. Luke's eyes were soft as they gazed upon her.  
  
My throat constricted painfully. I couldn't remember when the photograph had been taken, or how. Creases ran along our faces where the picture had been crushed by a big hand—or maybe accidentally crumpled when it fell into the crevice of the mattress.  
  
Travis shrugged helplessly at me, then turned away as a spitball from one of his siblings hit him in the back of his neck.  
  
I went back to the infirmary.  
  
Percy was still out of it, but thankfully, his colour looked a lot better. The greenish-grey tinge had left his face, so that he just seemed pale now. Will was sitting on the side of his bed, bandaging Percy's hand with a white cloth. Next to him, a glass of nectar and a small tub with a washcloth sticking out of it sat on the table.  
  
'You healed him,' I said gratefully.  
  
'Oh no, not me—it was pretty much all Chiron. I'm just doing the follow-up.' Will glanced at Percy's slack-jawed face and blushed for some reason. 'Did you find Luke? Chiron's—um, actually, I don't know where Chiron went. Argus called him away.' He nodded towards our many-eyed security officer, standing in the corner, who gave me a small smile. 'Crazy day, I guess.'  
  
I ignored the question about Luke. 'Can I do anything?'  
  
'Um, yeah, I guess you want to take my place—hang on a sec—' He tied off the bandage and laid Percy's hand gently by his side.  
  
'I don't have to—'  
  
Will got up, not quite meeting my eyes, and passed me the glass of iced nectar. 'You do,' he said simply. 'He's already semi-conscious. Just let him sip at this—it'll give him a fever, but that'll actually help to burn up the poison.'  
  
I took Will's place without further argument.  
  
Chiron rolled in, his hindquarters compacted into his wheelchair for some reason. 'Thanks, Will,' he said, and then he saw me. 'Oh, Annabeth, good. Where's—?'  
  
'He's missing,' I said quickly, before he could say Luke's name. 'The Stoll brothers said he packed up and left this morning.  
  
Will looked between Chiron and me. I guess he put two and two together, because he quickly made his excuses and ducked out of the infirmary.  
  
'Oh dear,' Chiron said. 'Well, he won't be the only one heading out into the world.' He looked at me shrewdly. 'Your family—'  
  
Before he could finish, Percy gave a little cough. His eyes flew open. Although I already knew he'd be okay, actually seeing those sea-green eyes made my heart swell up.  
  
Percy gave me a lopsided smile. 'Here we are again.'  
  
'You idiot,' I told him. Part of me wanted to swat him with the washcloth for putting me through all that worry; another part felt like throwing my arms around him in relief. 'You were green and turning grey when we found you. If it weren't for Chiron's healing …'  
  
'Now, now, Percy's constitution deserves some of the credit,' Chiron interrupted. He looked solemnly at Percy. 'How are you feeling?'  
  
'Like my insides have been frozen, then microwaved,' Percy said with a grimace.  
  
'Apt, considering that was pit scorpion venom. Now you must tell me, if you can, exactly what happened.'  
  
Percy gave me a worried glance. My insides clenched. Somehow, I knew before he started talking, what he was going to say.  
  
I guess it wasn't too hard to put together. I _had_ all the clues. I probably could have figured it out—who Kronos's servant really was, why Hermes's shoes had nearly chucked Grover into Tartarus, the reason my best friend—the person I'd considered family—had disappeared on me without a word.  
  
Percy kept his voice carefully neutral as he told his tale, avoiding my eyes.  
  
'He said everything we did was about being pawns of the gods. That we had to burn it down and start over again. He told me about his quest and how it wasn't good enough, not glorious enough for him. And that was how Kronos got into his dreams, and talked him into stealing the bolt _and_ the helmet at the winter solstice. He was there, at Mount Olympus,' Percy's eyes darted quickly to me and back away, 'with the campers on the field trip.'  
  
Every word he said, every accusation against Luke stabbed me in the chest, too. I didn't want to believe it. I wanted to protest that no, Luke would _never_ …  
  
Except it also made sense. Everything fit. Little things I'd seen but never really internalised—maybe I simply wouldn't allow myself to think twice about them—hammered relentlessly at my brain now.  
  
Luke had woken us all up from our Hypnos-induced slumber on Olympus and given me back my Yankees cap. There were all the times he'd seemed to just disappear from camp. When Grover and I got back from our quest, Luke had immediately thought Percy had failed … he'd _known_ Percy was meant to be doomed. _He'd_ gifted Percy the pair of treacherous shoes that only luck had prevented from carrying us all into Tartarus. (Would he have grieved if I'd disappeared into the pit?) His aloofness since our return wasn't jealousy: he'd been plotting against us all. And my last real conversation with him … the meaning underlying every word he'd said hit hard.  
  
 _You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend._ Percy's quest prophecy was true, after all—Luke had betrayed Percy right from the start; we just hadn't known it until now.   
  
'Ares caught him, but Kronos helped Luke talk Ares into hiding the bolt and helmet to start a war. Kronos told him I was coming to Camp Half-Blood and they set things up so I'd get the quest … Luke called the hellhound so that you'd think camp wasn't safe any more.'  
  
'It worked,' Chiron said grimly.  
  
Percy nodded. 'It was all part of his plan—their plan. He was so angry. He said the gods had let him down.' He looked at me again. 'He said they let Thalia down.'  
  
A ragged sob escaped from my mouth. My eyes stung. I felt like my bronze knife, the gift from Luke that I always carried, was burning red-hot against my thigh. The crumpled photograph that I'd retrieved from his empty bunk felt heavy in my pocket.  
  
'And then—before he set the scorpion on me—he told me Kronos was waiting with more quests for him, and he was leaving to serve Kronos. He's going to help him rise, Chiron.'  
  
I felt like one of Medusa's statues in her emporium. I thought of Luke's warm hugs—before and after our quest—and his admonition to stay safe, his delight at my return. The thought that none of that might have been genuine left a bitter taste in my heart.  
  
He'd told Percy that he'd followed Kronos because the gods had let Thalia down, but everything he'd done could have gotten _me_ killed.  
  
Had he ever really cared about me? Was it even possible that the boy I worshipped could have changed overnight?  
  
'I can't believe that Luke …' I started, but the words coming out of my own mouth sounded false even to me. I _did_ know Luke had been becoming sour for years. But I had never wanted to see it. I didn't _want_ to believe that my dearest friend could be capable of anything but heroism.   
  
_Let your head lead and not your heart._  
  
The pedestal supporting my mental image of Luke came crashing down, leaving only bitter, sulphurous anger boiling away underneath.  
  
'Yes,' I said slowly. 'Yes. I _can_ believe it. May the gods curse him … He was never the same after his quest.'  
  
Chiron spoke at last, in a voice full of consternation. 'This must be reported to Olympus. I will go at once.'  
  
I listened, still numb, as Percy and Chiron argued about chasing Luke down. Percy wanted to go after him himself, as if he hadn't just been incapacitated by a pit scorpion. I personally was in two minds about it. I knew we had to stop Kronos. I'd heard his ancient, evil voice and felt the nothingness that he had shown us on Santa Monica beach. But … Luke. Angry as I was about his betrayal, could I head out on a quest to face him as the enemy?  
  
I did want to hunt him down, though, because I wanted answers. I needed to look him in the eye and ask him _why_.  
  
And then Percy asked about the Great Prophecy.   
  
Chiron looked uncomfortable. 'Percy, it isn't my place—'  
  
'You've been ordered not to talk to me about it, haven't you?'  
  
I knew this was only partly the truth, but Chiron latched onto the explanation gratefully. HIs reply was familiar; it reminded me of the times he'd promised me I had a heroic future ahead of me.  
  
'You'll have to trust me, Percy,' Chiron said. 'You will live. But first you must decide your path for the coming year.'  
  
I looked at the two of them, surprised. I had assumed the matter of Percy's status at camp was already a done deal. Only as Chiron offered Percy the decision to stay or return home for seventh grade did I realise Percy had not made up his mind yet.  
  
'When I get back from Olympus, you must tell me your decision,' Chiron told him. 'I'll be back as soon as I can. Argus will watch over you.' Then he turned to me. 'Oh, and my dear,' he said, 'whenever you're ready … they're here.'  
  
My heart thumped uncomfortably. I realised what he had been about to tell me just before Percy woke up. Everything felt too fast suddenly. I wanted more time to compose myself before I met a father I hadn't seen in two years. There had to be more time for goodbyes. I hadn't even told Percy yet that I was leaving.  
  
'Who's here?' Percy asked, looking between me and Chiron. I found I couldn't answer.  
  
Chiron merely patted both our shoulders—giving mine a small squeeze—and rolled himself out.  
  
I looked down, trying to will my heartbeat to slow.  
  
'What's wrong?' Percy asked.  
  
'Nothing. I …' I was still holding his glass of nectar. I put it down with a clunk. This was my chance to tell him the news, but it was difficult to work up to it. 'I just took your advice about something.' I was about to tell him, but Percy adjusted himself in the bed, frowning like he needed a favour. 'You … um … need anything?'  
  
'Yeah. Help me up. I want to go outside.'  
  
I looked dubiously at his pallor. 'Percy, that isn't a good idea.'  
  
He threw back the bedclothes and swung his legs out. He didn't even make it to standing position before collapsing on me.  
  
I pushed him back onto the bed. 'I told you …'  
  
'I'm fine!' He gripped my shoulder tightly and forced himself back up. I sighed and helped him limp onto the porch. He shivered a lot and broke into cold sweat, but I decided not to point it out. We got to the porch rail and he let go of me to lean against it. Percy stared out over the campgrounds, his face serious. I guessed he was considering the choice he had yet to make.  
  
He didn't have much time left to decide.  
  
I glanced over to Half-Blood Hill. Four silhouettes were painted against the setting sun, right under Thalia's tree where the magical boundaries ended. Two were taller and two were tiny. My stomach flipped over. They really had come— _all_ of them.  
  
This was it. I'd made my choice for the year; there was no turning back now. At least, I hoped I wouldn't be turning back this time.  
  
I looked back at Percy. 'What are you going to do?'  
  
'I don't know.' He tore his eyes away from Camp Half-Blood to look at me. 'I think Chiron wants me to be a year-rounder and get more training, but I don't know … I don't know if I want to.'  
  
'You want to see your mom.'  
  
He smiled wryly. 'Yeah. I feel bad about leaving you to deal with Clarisse on your own, though.'  
  
It was ironic, given that the same thought had crossed my mind. Also, it was amusing how he thought that, since I'd already put up with Clarisse for two years before he'd come along.  
  
I took a deep breath. I couldn't put off telling him any longer. 'I'm going home for the year, Percy.'  
  
'You mean, to your dad's?'  
  
I pointed to my waiting family. I wondered how long they'd been there already. I told Percy about the letter I'd wrote, and my dad's reply. Our agreement to try again.  
  
'That took guts,' Percy said.  
  
The compliment made my churning insides settle down a bit. Suddenly there was a ton of stuff I wanted to say and I wish I _had_ told Percy earlier after all. But we were out of time. For now, anyway.  
  
'You won't try anything stupid during the school year, will you?' I said. 'At least … not without sending me an iris-message?'  
  
'I won't go looking for trouble. I usually don't have to.'  
  
Give Percy's propensity for trouble, I guessed I might get quite a few messages if he kept his word. The prospect made me feel happy. Whatever the year had in store for me, I'd look forward to catching up with Percy again. And when we next met …  
  
'When I get back next summer, we'll hunt down Luke. We'll ask for a quest, but if we don't get approval, we'll sneak off and do it anyway. Agreed?'  
  
Percy grinned. 'Sounds like a plan worthy of Athena.'  
  
We shook on it.  
  
'Take care, Seaweed Brain. Keep your eyes open.'  
  
'You too, Wise Girl,' he said.  
  
My dad was looking in my direction, although I knew he couldn't see through the magical barriers. He held the Waterland backpack I had sent as a peace offering in his hands, a talisman. I took a deep breath and looked back again at Percy. He nodded encouragingly at me.  
  
I took one last look into his sea-green eyes. I wouldn't see them again until next June, but that was okay. Maybe we would stay in touch in the meantime. And I had his promise that we'd go questing again next summer. In spite of the betrayal I'd just suffered and the upheavals in my world, I believed I could count on Percy. And that gave me something solid to hang on to.   
  
I didn't know if I'd find Luke next summer, but for now I had an older family waiting for me, and a year ahead to try and make that work.   
  


**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! I think quite possibly this may have taken the prize for the longest fic I've ever written. It's clocking in at over 80,000 words! It's been an amazingly fun project, though, and I've come to love Annabeth so, so much. If you've followed the story all the way, thank you VERY much and I hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> A big thank you to Rick Riordan for writing the original series and allowing us to play in his sandbox. Obviously this story’s plot comes straight from The Lightning Thief, as does any of the dialogue where I have converged with the canon scenes. I hope though that I have managed to succeed at presenting a fresh perspective at the events in the book and done Annabeth justice.
> 
> If you've enjoyed this fic, you might be interested to know that I will be continuing Annabeth's story over _Sea of Monsters_ soon. In the meantime, you can find other stuff of mine on LJ at [shiikifics](http://shiikifics.livejournal.com), or come say hi on my [LJ](http://shiiki.livejournal.com) or [tumblr](http://dotshiiki.tumblr.com)!


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